News
by LawGrad07
Summary: A different take on how Thane's romance could have played out through ME3. I am a believer in happy endings, love and the right to live. I will not, therefore, let Bioware simply kill the Drell. Not on my, or my Shepard's, watch.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: In my humble opinion, Bioware lost out on a massive opportunity to learn more about the Drell when they decided to end Thane's story in a tragedy. I myself can't stand tragedies, even ones which provide 'honourable deaths' for beloved characters. Thus, while I respect those fans who feel Thane's end was appropriate, and while I don't argue that Bioware's decision was wrong (it is their story after all, even though I feel they handled Thane's aspect woefully, and I mean _**WOEFULLY**_), I reject their reality and substitute my own. One which is based on hope, love, hardships and well earned happy endings.

This piece could well end up being one of many on the subject of the dear Drellish Sere and his mate. Do tell me what you think if you can spare a moment. I value ideas and constructive critique most highly.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>News<span>

_**In which Shepard hears the words she never thought she would  
><strong>_

/Siha.

When word of the attack on Earth reached me I feared the worst. It gladdens me beyond calculable measure to know that you are unharmed and that this message will reach you unimpeded. During your confinement the Alliance was less than accommodating of such things. Forgive the brevity of this missive. My time is rarely my own now and my mind is unfocused with worry and lingering doubts as to your safety. Please, when you have time, pay Huerta Memorial Hospital a visit. I await you there, and have news I must share with you.

- Thane/

Such was the message that propelled Commander Amial Shepard, freshly arrived aboard the Normandy from a trip out on the Citadel's Presidium Commons, back through the docking bay at a speed no God in its right mind would design the human body to withstand. Narrowly avoiding a haste-caused-four-way-pile-up with a pair of Turians and a hapless Volus, she leapt between the just opened doors of the elevator nearest to the Normandy's dock and slammed an open palm onto the 'Presidium Level - Huerta Memorial Hospital' button.

In that moment, as she wheezed and jittered and the lift's doors closed, nothing in her world was happening fast enough. The trip felt hours long, not the scant two minutes or so it actually took. She itched with tension, pacing back and forth as the lift ferried her on her way. Caught up in the need to simply _get to him_.

She'd known, when she had given herself up to the Alliance months back, that Thane's illness would soon require medical intervention. Mordin had managed to sneak word to her just after she disembarked that he planned to take him to the Citadel in an effort to stabilise his condition, but she had heard nothing since.

Until today.

A deeply discontented growl of frustration echoed through Shepard's little metal box as it slowed to a crawl on the approach to her destination. Even with his note, she knew next to nothing about how he was doing. How his condition had progressed or if he had been able to find treatment. She raked her fingers through her hair as these thoughts came and went, poking the 'Huerta Memorial' button again in an effort to speed the lift up.

Things had never felt more urgent than they did now.

When the elevator finally opened its doors outside of Huerta Memorial, Shepard was through them, across the courtyard and heading into the patient lounge before her mind caught on to the fact that she'd even moved. She scanned the room as she walked, searching for _him_, observing the crowds and wondering, in the back of her mind, at how the number of distressed refugees taking shelter here seemed to have doubled in the month since her last visit.

Outside of that increase however, the room was much the same as it had always been. The same crowded space, coloured in sterile whites and greys and tinged with the smell of antiseptic. The same rows of chairs, plastic and metal and uncomfortable as sin. The same floor to ceiling windows affording a view, to the afflicted, of the comings and goings of the well.

But no Thane.

As of yet, no Thane.

Shepard turned in a careful circle once she reached the room's centre, seeking any sign that might hint at his presence. The glint of light hitting black leather. Scales of his particular shade of green. At first she found nothing, but luckily she was also being sought.

It was the weight of his gaze that allowed her to find him. She felt it as keenly as she would have felt him laying his hands on her shoulders, and turned a final time towards the corridor leading into the patient's wing to find him watching her, wonder stealing across his face at her sight.

"Siha!" he called, but she was already moving, weaving through the crowd and reaching for him, when she was close enough, with both hands. He caught them in his by reflex alone, his expression turning from joyous relief to complete, almost severe concentration and concern and she knew, just _knew_, that he was comparing what he saw of her now with his endless stock of perfectly recalled memories of her. Assessing her condition the best way he could at this early point of their reacquaintance.

In those brief, still moments she did her best to do the same, taking him in quickly. He looked alert but tired. His eyes were bright and moved over her form quickly, the mind behind them almost visibly working as he explored her. His grip on her hands was as firm but gentle as it always had been and, but for a distinct tightness in his shoulders and the faint, almost imperceptible shifts in position he made as he stood before her, he appeared as graceful and poised as he ever had.

After five tense breaths worth of intense scrutiny he seemed to come to a conclusion, nodding fractionally to himself and gathering her against his body without need for further preamble.

"You came so swiftly" he rumbled, feeling Shepard curl herself against him as she murmured a vague affirmative. "I had feared the worst."

"Ohhh, don't you worry about me" she whispered, discontent to have the entire corridor hear her but needing, at the same time, to soothe his fears as best she could. They parted just enough to be able to catch each other's eyes and shared, after a moment of simply looking upon one another once more, a deeply affectionate, deeply loving smile.

"But Gods I'm so very glad you're safe" Thane mustered, speaking as softly as his Siha had and for much the same reason. An intrinsically private man, he found even this, a necessary and wanted display of affection, difficult to achieve without some measure of unease about it being visible to all and sundry. After all, one cannot be properly watchful of one's surroundings when wrapped up in one's mate.

Almost as though she read his mind, Shepard glanced at the rooms to their immediate left and right, a brow quirked curiously.

"Are you allowed to take me home, or is that against regulations?" she asked, revelling in both the grin her humour earned her and the gentlemanly offer of an arm she received just after it.

"This place will never be my home, Siha" her mate noted, accepting her hand at the crook of his elbow and leading her at a notably careful pace along the corridor towards the room he had been apportioned upon his arrival. "But I dare say, with you here, it feels a little more accommodating."

"I'll bet it does" she chuckled, noticing but not commenting on the slight awkwardness...stiffness...in her mate's usually fluid gait. It's presence both did and didn't surprise her. He was terribly ill, much as she tried to ignore that fact, and was entitled to his aches and pains. It pained her deeply to witness though, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from letting that pain become visible to him. Today was about him, not her emotional issues, and she was determined to spend every last second she could with him enjoying his company and having him enjoy hers.

They reached his room after a couple of minutes of walking through bustling halls. A wall of dry, warm air hit them as they entered and, if for nothing else, Shepard thanked whatever Gods may be for the hospital's ability to cater to her mate's distinct needs. As she looked around the room she had to bite her cheek again to keep from welling up. While it was otherwise a nondescript hospital room, half of the back wall comprised of floor to ceiling windows and affording both 'daylight' and a rather fetching view of the Presidium, there were little touches of Thane everywhere. One of his coats hung on a hook on the right-most wall. The sheets on his bed were those which they had once shared on the Normandy, as was the rippling and dimpled velvet blanket folded neatly at its foot and the pillows at its head. She recognised every one of the slender prayer books that filled the single shelf above the bed, and on the bedside table sat a holo-frame which was cycling slowly through pictures she had taken throughout her time on the SR-2.

"That's mine.." she murmured faintly, gesturing to the frame and cursing herself inwardly for having to clear her throat to keep her voice from cracking. "It was on my desk in my quarters before I..left.."

"I couldn't let the Alliance take it from you" Thane explained, drawing her close to him again once the door hissed closed behind them. "They are your memories, Siha. _Yours_. Not theirs. They had no right to them, so I took them for safe keeping."

He knew from how she embraced him that his doing so had caused no offence, but he had to ask, if only for the pleasure of hearing her disabuse him.

"Was I wrong to-"

"No" she said, shaking her head slightly and swallowing through the tightness in her throat. "Of course not. They're yours too. Just like the rest of this.." She gave a mild gesture to the blanket, the pillows and the sheets before again distracting herself from the emotional turmoil welling up within her by burying herself within her mate's embrace. He welcomed her with an ease that was frankly startling by comparison to their moment in the corridor, meeting the weight she leant into him with his own and giving a deep, thoroughly gratified and entirely Drellish rumble of pleasure as their lips met for the first time in over six months.

Shepard, having never heard quite this flavour of expression from him before, gave a faint start when it reached both her ears and her skin. It sounded like a cross between a resonant hum and a low buzz, and was so close to the edge of her perceptible range of hearing that she actually had to work to hear it at all. Goosebumps came up along her arms in response to it, but that mattered for nothing.

It felt so damn _good_ to be home.

"Just like I am" she breathed once their lips eased apart, appending her thoughts about precisely what in the room was Thane's before going up on her toes to give her brow lightly to his. As he pressed back into her with equal pressure, she felt more than heard his answering chuckle and redoubled their embrace in response to it. They remained thus for a long moment, each revelling in the presence of the other, before she noticed something about him that she never had before.

It was his breathing.

It felt...steady.

Struck by this oddity she nestled herself closer against him, taking a moment to suckle a gentle kiss to his throat simply because she was able to and loved him, and concentrated on the feeling of him breathing against her neck and beneath her hands.

After the hitched gasp and answering rumble of contentment her kiss drew from him, she detected a deep, even breath taken in...

Followed by a slow exhalation...

"I missed you" she said, her voice soft and almost delicate as she selected another spot upon his throat, another scale which stood out from the rest at that moment, and gave it a kiss of equal tenderness to the first. She was rewarded with another of his bassy hums, and let herself gasp as he returned the endearment at the point where neck and shoulder meet; the loose collar of the t-shirt she wore eased out of the way with a practiced push of his nose.

"And I you" he replied, inhaling deeply against her skin, testing its scent and comparing it reflexively to the layers of memory he had built up around that single detail of her person.

And again...she felt it...The same pattern. That deep breath in...The slow exhalation following it...It was the same on both counts as those that had preceded it. Easy and comfortable and...slow, but not overtly 'controlled' in the way his breaths had been when she first knew him.

And again...Easy in...Easy out.

Now if it had been a single paired inhalation and exhalation she wouldn't have noticed it. Everyone takes a deep breath now and then, even people like Thane who, she knew, would have breathing issues until the day she finally lost him.

But again? A second time? A third and fourth and fifth and counting? A breathing pattern so out of character in comparison to that she remembered as his that it would give her pause?

...

Could it be coincidence?

A good day?

She had to know.

"Thane, are y-" she began but he was faster. Faster, and seemingly possessed of a preternatural sense of the direction her mind had taken. Perhaps he had noticed how her hands had spanned his back, feeling him as he took those even, steady breaths. Or perhaps he simply knew her that well.

"I have news for you" he murmured, affection and the beginnings of nervous excitement colouring his tone.

Hearing this her stomach knotted, hard. The last time 'news' was shared between them, he had told her that his worsening condition would require medical intervention during her absence.

"You mentioned that in your message" she said, swallowing again to try to make the tightness in her throat ease but failing admirably. "What is it?"

He watched her face for a long moment before speaking, weighing his words carefully. "Do you recall the tissue samples Professor Solus took from us? His interest in my illness was piqued by an advance made by the Illuminated Primacy, and he requested samples of lung tissue, amongst other things, to facilitate an experiment he had planned."

"Of course" Shepard replied, tension owning her as soon as he mentioned Mordin. She had raised hell and high-water searching for any flicker of hope that might give Thane a chance at a longer life. Even the possibility of a possibility of something would have sufficed. Anything for a way out of the death that terrified them both but seemed so inevitable.

The fight had seemed lost.

And then Mordin happened.

And the idea of engineering a genetic resistance to Keprals Syndrome was born.

As soon as it had occurred to him Mordin had dragged her, Thane and Dr Chakwas into his lab and just...starting _talking_...

"Cumulative exposure to adverse conditions brings on Keprals Syndrome in patient. As a result, lungs begin to degrade. Lungs then get inflamed. Keprals a persistent condition. Long term. Instigates chronic lung blood vessel disease. Chronic disease causes hyper-activation of immune system. Immune system attacks other blood vessels which results in blood vessel damage. This in turn causes end organ damage. End organ damage causes damage to organs outside lungs, hence lesions appearing in stomach...heart..."

He took a breath, just to make sure his guests were following.

Shepard would be the first to admit that she was struggling to keep up. She knew that Mordin was describing Keprals and how the condition progressed, but how all that related to something that could help Thane was beyond her. Dr Chakwas on the other hand seemed more on top of things and eagerly waved him on, whipping out a pad to take notes and watching the scholarly Salarian with rapt interest.

With a sniff and a nod Professor Solus concluded,

"Replacing lungs with resistance carrying cloned set destroys seat of illness. Without susceptible lungs, illness cannot manifest. Require tissue donation from candidate whose species is naturally resistant to disorder. Humans a viable candidate. Asari also. Levo-amino basis for DNA is what's important. Use of immunosuppressant formulae along with retrovirus to eradicate 'Keprals antigen'..." he air-quoted those words, smiling at his knowledge of what he perceived to be a gesture his human counterparts would be familiar with,

"..._could_...certainty impossible, but _could_..." he turned to Thane, "help you."

...

Coming back to herself, Shepard tried to answer her beau's question more fully, "He..he said he wanted to do some work with cloned tissue but I didn't..he didn't.." but sputtered to a stop when a faint but knowing smile flickered onto his lips. She had to try and ease her throat a second time before asking,

"What's happened?"

"Professor Solus and I visited the Citadel and its hospitals, seeking an appropriate facility in which to deal with my condition. Huerta Memorial, it goes without saying, was that which showed the most promise. I have spent the past six months here, receiving treatment as an in-patient" Thane explained, his voice becoming just as tremulous as his Siha's was. "With all lines of communication blocked..I couldn't get word of our success to you."

Shepard went cold, adrenaline flooding her system. "Word of your _what_?" she rasped, her chest working as she tried to force herself to breathe despite the stranglehold shock and disbelief had on her system. So used was she to expecting the worst that talk of anything like 'success' rang alarm bells at a deafening volume.

Her mate's response was measured, thoughtful, but wordless. He reached, gathered her already shaking fingers in his and guided them up to the top button of the shirt he wore. The garment was light and cotton, made for comfort and so entirely unlike his usual leathers that Shepard wondered how she'd been so distracted by his presence that she hadn't actually noticed it until now.

"Open them, Siha" he prompted gently when her stunned stillness grew long, his words drawing her eyes to his. There were several casts of seriousness in his expression, but she could have read him in this moment even without the benefit of sight. His gaze carried the same weight and wealth of implications that the action of placing her hands where he had did.

A brief moment of gaping later, she stuttered into action. The first button fell to her persistence... then the second...then the third. As she worked Thane's hands, which by the fall of the fourth button shook as much as hers did, found her elbows as she undid the fifth and stopped, the shirt falling open, revealing to her now tear-glassed eyes what it had concealed.

It was so thin it resembled a paper cut, but it was there. She could see it. A scar, still fresh enough to be faintly red against the rich and vital green of his scales, split his chest down the middle. Seeing it knocked Shepard's breath out of her and made her throat knot as hard as her stomach had a moment prior. She barely managed to force out a stilted "_Wha_-?" before she had to swallow, her throat so dry that it hurt to do so.

"You _can't_ b-" she hitched, her fingers clenching in the open folds of his shirt, "serious..How di-.._What_?"

Thane's expression wavered briefly as he recalled a memory to illuminate his struggling mate. Not only would its recitation be the most accurate way of relaying the information to her, but he could not fake the clarity with which he spoke when recounting a memory. Could not lie to her through them or doctor them to please or comfort. She knew this, and he hoped that knowledge would help her accept what he himself was only just beginning to truly believe.

He met her eyes as the memory came, speaking it aloud for her.

"Professor Solus approaches..my latest test results in hand..'Congratulations Sere' he says, clicking through his notes efficiently..transposing them on the board for me to see.. 'Can confirm treatment a continuing success. No evidence of Keprals resurgence. Transplanted lungs clear and healthy. Terminal prognosis retracted. Overridden. Contact Shepard. _Must_ tell her'.."

Shepard stood frozen in place as Thane slipped free of his memory and once again became animated in her arms. Reliving the moment for her brought his own relief and elation back as keenly as he had felt them when Mordin had shared his findings with him, and he clutched at his Siha as fervently as she did at him. Needing the contact in equal measure. He watched her closely, memorising every detail. How her jaw worked soundlessly as she tried to put voice to thoughts moving too quickly for her to catch. How she searched his face with the same protective, now panicked, eyes that he had so missed during their enforced absence from each other. How her breathing quickened beyond her capacity to calm it and how deeply she trembled against his body as he held her close.

When she finally spoke, the words came out like scattershot.

"You...I don't...Resur-..Oh my..Overri- You mean you're n-..Not goin'..t..to.." her voice became hoarse as she spoke and she fought herself bitterly to keep from weeping all over him. She shook her head sharply in an effort to clear it then focused on Thane's face again, her hands scrabbling up to cup his jaw.

"You tell me yourself" she said, the words more or less a pained groan. "I don't want to hear Mordin. I _need_ to hear you. Have.." her voice failed her again, faltering over the questions she never thought she'd get to ask. She regrouped quickly, managing to force enough words out for her mate to follow her thinking and reply without needing complete sentences to guide him.

"Mordin created the..." _Keprals resistant lungs he told us he was experimenting with?_

"Yes"

"From the tissue I...we..." _donated to make the cloning possible?_

"Yes"

"And you...you...they're...here?" She managed to touch shock-numbed fingers to his chest, indicating the scaring. Thane took a half step forward and leant into her touch slightly, encouraging it by implication.

"Yes" he said, giving a slight nod.

Hearing this, Shepard's face began to crumple, fat tears escaping and rolling down her cheeks as the reality of the situation began to sink in. When her beau leant and kissed one of the offending droplets away, another of his buzzing grumbles escaping him as he did, she almost lost what little composure she had left. She had a final question though. Just one more. One final answer she had to hear before she'd let herself start believing. Three simple words that sounded, to Thane's ears, like they pained her to speak.

"Are you _sick_?"

He paused briefly, knowing that he would later need to clarify that his treatments were ongoing and would be for the foreseeable future, but he knew her meaning. She wasn't asking if he was at his best, if his long period of illness had left him unscathed or if he was free of the need for medications to help his body recover from the traumas it had been through, both from his illness and the treatments he had been subject to in being rid of it . She was asking if he was dying, and to that, he had an answer which needed no clarification.

"No love" he said, shifting his grip on her when she tensed at his words and doing his best not to succumb to the remembered and still present relief he felt at being able to say these things, "I'm not."

For Shepard though, succumbing was not an option. Her higher functions went out like a light as soon as that 'No' was spoken, and she stared wide-eyed at him for a long moment before a splutter of laughter escaped her, a broad and entirely dumbstruck smile curving her gaping lips. The laugh was brief and sharp and she looked almost surprised that it had come from her at first. Another burst soon followed it though, then another, and then a fourth, this one coming up around a word.

"I-" she croaked, clutching his shirt in both hands as the raspy bursts of laughter began to be edged by tears.

"I can't-" Her legs were starting to go, she could feel it and Thane could too, his arms tightening around her in response, halting her descent towards the ground before it truly began. "..Can't.." She tried again, dragging in a sharp breath that ended in a coughed sob and quickly dropping her gaze to his throat and upper chest. Even with her beau, she was uncomfortable being seen to cry openly. He was persistent though, dipping his head slightly to try and catch her eyes.

"Siha.." he tried, unperturbed by how she turned her face away at his first attempt. He knew the feelings she had now. Disbelief and relief warring for dominance. Truthfully he had his moments himself, when he thought he had imagined the past six months. Now though was not one of those times. This revelation was for her. He would witness it. Cause it even. And would help her through it with all the tender care she had once showed him in his darkest days.

Cunningly and with assurance shored by more than a little experience of riding this woman's emotional highs and lows, he changed tack, dipping his head again but this time using her face-name to call to her. He hoped its relative rarity compared to his repeated and loving use of her soul-name, 'Siha', would catch her attention.

"Ami.."

There was a pause...a silent moment...and then a whimper from somewhere between his love's chest and his own that sounded suspiciously like 'Mhhm?'

_There you are_

He raised a hand carefully, slowly enough that its appearance by her face wouldn't startle her, and stroked the back of his fused fingers along her damp cheek. When he was rewarded by another tinny whimper, he made his tone coaxing and soft.

"Ami..look at me love" he said, touching her jaw in the hopes of coaxing her to do as he bade her to.

After a protracted moment, her eyes met his and she stared. Her gaze was resolute and focused, but the calm she was still trying to portray and maintain was betrayed by the wetness on her cheeks and how her lips and chin quivered with the effort not to weep.

It took her a full thirty seconds to collect enough breath to speak. She had wanted to say something joyous; something that reflected the elation she felt at having her paralysing worry for his wellbeing eased. What she blurted out though was nothing of the kind. It was small, petty even, and a reflection of the very private agony she had nursed for over a year concerning his worsening condition and what, up until two minutes ago, had been a certain goodbye.

".._Don't you __**leave**__ me_.."

It should have shamed her, talking like that. Letting him see her like this. It should have been painful to her pride...but it wasn't. It felt cathartic. The weight in her chest, having spoken it aloud, was easing, even as her tears fell and her breath became choked sobs.

His urgency quickened by her obvious distress, relief-brought or not, Thane took her face in his hands and spoke while looking directly into her eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere."

He swore the words as both oath and bond, and caught her, when her knees buckled and she landed against him; desperate hands searching for purchase upon his person but finding none in her blind need until he guided her arms around his shoulders and drew her properly back into his embrace.

And there she remained. There _they_ remained. Her resolve entirely decimated, Amial wept into her mate's neck until she was too weak to stand and he, strong, loving he, welcomed her onto the edge of his bed when her strength finally deserted her, settling himself beside her and holding her until her sobs at last began to ease.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A.N: Firstly, a huge thank you to everyone who commented on chapter one. I really appreciate the feedback and am thrilled that so many people enjoyed my little foray into Bioware's sandbox.

I plan on making this story a possible 'could-have-been' if Thane's arch had been rightly handled in-game. Thus, it will span through to and perhaps even past the end of Mass Effect 3's storyline. I will do my best to update it once every week or so, but this will vary a bit depending on chapter length and my work schedule.

As an aside, my Shepard's parentage is mentioned briefly in this chapter. If you'd like to learn a bit more about that aspect of her character, click onto my author's page and take a look at 'When there was life'.

To close, in gracious and humble thanks to all those people who enjoyed News, this chapter runs _long_. I suggest you enjoy it over a little time with a cup of your drink of choice to hand. Coffee worked especially well for me while writing it.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>Catharsis and Reaffirmation<span>

**_After the shock of revelation, tea, conversation and once-chaste affections lead to a request that's been months in the making, and an admission of what has long been known_**

It took almost an hour and a half's worth of tears for Amial to finally cry herself out. These weren't small tears either. Not the 'dab the eyes with a handkerchief and get on the with day' kind. These were the ones that left you utterly useless as they passed on through. That made eyes run like rivers and stole breath; made sobs come up as howling cries and buckled knees.

And she was perfectly ok with that.

Thane was with her.

He was **HEALTHY**.

And here, hidden against his chest..with his arms around her and hers around him..finally..._finally_...she could cry.

They could cry.

For remembered pain and futility..For relief..For nights spent light-years apart with nothing but worries to plague them..For every time Ami had had to leave the medbay on the Normandy to keep from breaking down _just like this _at the sight of her poor mate losing his fight..For every time she had swallowed those tears and for the fact that she'd _never_ have to again, they wept together.

By the time the tears had come and gone, she felt about as useful and limp as a wet ramen noodle. Her cheeks were blotchy and damp. Her nose was running and stuffed up all at once. Her eyes were sore and her head was pounding..and..she felt Thane's cool fingertips touch her chin, tipping it back and drawing her eyes to his.

For a long moment he simply looked upon her, his fingertips stroking over her cheeks..her brow..coaxing her eyes to close as they drifted over their lids..

A breath then..his breath..was blown gently over her face..

It took a beat for her to catch on, but when she realised quite what he was up to she was so touched that an entirely involuntary sigh of contentment escaped her lips.

He was trying to cool her skin down. To soothe the redness and warmth that crying brought to the face of even the most stoic soldier.

She let herself bask in the feeling, a cool breeze on too warm skin always welcome, and opened her eyes as her mate's puff eased. He was looking at her with such concern that her heart clenched.

"..Are you well, Siha?" he asked as he pressed a tissue, hastily plucked from the box on his nightstand, into her hand; his voice low and respectful of their proximity.

The composure Ami was just beginning to regain gave a wobble at his attentiveness, but she caught herself, unwilling to lose another second of their time together to tears. "Just a bit..shaky but..yeah.." she croaked, giving him a watery smile and leaning her cheek into his cradling palm. "..Are you?"

"The same..but..yeah" he hushed, purposefully mimicking her turn of phrase and delighting in the smile it earned him as he drew her close, canting his head to the left slightly so that she could hide her face against his throat.

As she rested there, slumped and spent against Thane as he embraced her, Ami began gathering her wits. Putting herself back together, bit by bit, in the aftermath of what had to have been the most emotionally testing experience of her life to date. Everything else..Elysium..losing her father to the Attican Traverse when she was nought but a nipper..even losing Kaidan to Virmire..couldn't touch this. Not because they were lesser somehow.

_Never_ that.

But those past times, even Elysium, which had won her medals and respect across the entire fleet, all represented things she had lost. People she had lost. Today, the most important person in her life..and she was ready to admit to herself that he was that, and had been for over a year..had been given **BACK** to her. And the relief..

God..

The relief that fact brought had hit her so hard that she was convinced it had destroyed and remade her in the second it took Thane to answer her 'Are you _sick_?' with, 'No love, I'm not'.

It made her breath hitch to think about it, even now, over an hour after the fact, and sent new tears..small ones this time..gentle in comparison to how she had gone to pieces before..rolling down her cheeks. She thought, since she was hidden away, that they were safe there..that Thane wouldn't see them and therefore wouldn't fret about her emotional state..but she'd underestimated him. He'd known as soon as he felt that hitch in her breathing, and tightened his embrace about her in response before easing back a little so he could see her face.

"..You weep still.." he murmured, stroking away a droplet as it meandered down her cheek. "Tell me what pains you."

Ami's eyes flickered briefly closed at his touch, and she smiled through the minor break in her resolve to cry no further. "They're happy tears" she replied, blowing a soft breath through her lips as she forced herself to calm. "They all were. But these ones especially. I'm just.." Her voice gave out mid-sentence, the thought it had carried lost, and she dipped her head bashfully to cover the slip; huffing out a wavering beat of laughter and reaching, with a polite pause to allow her beau to assent, to carefully refasten the buttons on his shirt.

Thane looked on with concern-edged affection, lightly cupping her hands in his as she worked. Not to impede or stifle. Rather, simply for the pleasure of feeling her fingers moving beneath his hands as he contemplated ways in which to help her settle a little easier. He looked back through his memories of their time together, searching for a circumstance comparable to this for guidance on how best to proceed, but realised quickly that there was no exact precedent to work off of. He had seen his Siha express everything from apoplectic rage to the most tender affection, but had never once had the opportunity to experience quite this facet of her personality.

For really, at what point in their time together had there been cause for the release of a year's-worth of pent-up despair in an instant of shattering relief?

One thing he knew with certainty however, was that lingering on something that was causing her upset, even if that upset was brought on by relief, would not calm her in any which way.

To that end, distraction was in order. For both of them.

But what kind?

Since he and his Siha dealt with crushingly emotional moments quite differently, finding something suitable would require careful thought. Ami was a more..demonstrative creature than he when it came to dealing with such things. She paced and dragged her fingers through her hair when she was angry or frustrated. Excitement gave her hands life as she spoke, and distress, though it turned her quiet, made her tense and jittery. She would try and divert her mind by picking at things, usually her cuffs, gloves or collar, though a data pad did in a pinch. Her work with his buttons was typical of this, and was as much an exercise in self-comfort as it was an effort to neaten him up a bit.

It wouldn't tide her over for long though.

She'd unfastened and then refastened the top three twice already.

He, on the other hand, given his generally introverted nature and predominantly Hanar upbringing, most often found comfort after times of high emotion by centring himself through meditation and prayer. Doing this allowed him to calm his mind, and made it less likely that he would lapse into a solipsistic episode, recalling the moment that had touched him and, because of the clarity of that recollection, redoubling its impact.

This penchant was not without exception however, particularly when he was in the company of a loved one. He was just as likely as she to find comfort in the simple fact that she was with him. In being able to linger near her, even if they did nothing but remain close.

Now though, something more active than simple presence was needed.

Something they could properly focus on.

As he pondered, Thane took a glance around the room, in search of inspiration.

The night table was of no help. While it housed numerous of his effects, he doubted his Siha would find any of them particularly engaging, and the holo-frame that made its home on top would likely cause her to dwell on memories in which he was still struggling with his illness, not distract her from dwelling, period.

He knew also that his prayer books, sitting on the shelf above them, would do little to ease her. While she respected his beliefs, and had on occasion sat with him to listen to him reading through passages he particularly enjoyed, he knew from how her ear had been leant to his back or his chest as he read that she was sampling his voice, less the words he was saying. Though he had enjoyed this greatly, the warm weight of her resting against him always a comfort, something more active was needed now.

Something she could help with..

That they would both enjoy..

He considered this as his gaze moved out around the room, finding the windows..and then the table and..

_There_

Inspiration came in the form of his collection of black-based mugs.

* * *

><p>Through all their enforced absence from each other, Ami had kept herself company with memories of her beau. Thoughts of his voice and its rhythms..his grace..his speed..his mind and how he expressed himself..All these things occupied her in the dull silence of her lonely Vancouver nights.<p>

Being human though meant that her memory was nothing if not imperfect, and she had cursed herself for that during her incarceration. Entire evenings were spent wondering on what it would be like to perfectly recall, like Thane could, her favourite of his kisses, the perfection of their first embrace as lovers or the moment when, sat at the mess table on an otherwise routine evening, she had actually made him jump by stroking his ankle with her bare toes. All these things, she thought, would be made all the more special if she could record every detail for posterity's sake.

It was times like this though, times like _now_ - when he was engaged in some careful task or other - that the merits of an imperfect memory truly outweighed its burdens. It meant she got to watch, her wonder at the grace of his hands undimmed by access to an endless stock of memories, as he fastidiously extracted a rectangular _something_ from its box and sat it on his table.

As yet, she hadn't the foggiest idea what the man was up to. Not five minutes ago they had been settled side by side on his bed, taking their time in calming each other in the aftermath of his revelation about his returning health. And now, she was rubbing her cheeks clean with the tissue he'd given her while watching him tinker with a..a..

What _was_ that thing?

She lingered close and bent to examine it as he aligned the object just so, his fingertips pointedly lingering on its edges before he was engrossed with tidying away the box it came in.

Unwilling to disturb Thane's particular placement of the _something_, or indeed risk breaking it, Ami squashed the urge to reach and stroke the edge that his fingers had just left, and instead braced her hands on the table and gave it a proper looking at. It was silver coloured, about a foot tall from top to base, had no visible panels or buttons on it, and its surface was buffed to such a shine that it put her dress shoes to shame.

Of these details, that last one stuck with her. She had a hunch about it and leant, peeping around at the edge Thane had last touched..

..Fingerprints..He'd left behind four little smudged fingerprints when he'd straightened it up..

Righting herself again as her mate approached, she couldn't help but grin. He was borderline obsessive about the neatness of his possessions, and she was damn sure that keeping this rectangular box of shiny metal clean would be driving him up the wall.

"So" she said, watching as a pair of water bottles and a small circular pot were set beside 'it' and just, _just_ managing to stop herself from laughing when those fingerprints she'd noticed were also noticed, and promptly set upon, by he who left them. "What's it for?"

"It was a gift from Kolyat" Thane explained, rubbing away at the marks with a handkerchief he produced from his pocket. Once he was satisfied, he touched the very tip of his index finger to the centre of the front-facing side of the object, and watched with quiet pride as its interface lit up. With a couple of practiced clicks, the lower portion of the front panel was coaxed into sliding gracefully aside, exposing space enough for a single mug within.

"Tea, love?" he asked cordially, nodding towards the small clutch of mugs arranged neatly in the centre of the table, and noting with private relief that her face was quickly losing the ruddy red blotches that her tears had left in their wake.

For a second or two, all Ami could do was stare. "Tea?" she laughed, reaching over to collect a couple of the mugs and handing them over carefully. "Kolyat brought you a _tea maker_?"

"He did" Thane grinned, accepting them with a murmured 'Thank you' and setting the first, hers of course, inside the object of her curiosity. She watched him closely as he arranged it with as much care as he had the tea maker itself, giving the interface a tap to close the front panel once he was satisfied that all was as it should be. Another tap opened a small port on the device's top, into which the first bottle of water was decanted with great care.

"He told me" he recounted as he worked, "that he wanted to do something tangible to help me feel better. For all I tried to dissuade him, he decided that this might do the trick."

"That was really sweet of him.." Ami noted, trying to square her last memory of Kolyat - frightened, bloody-lipped by her fist and angry..so damn angry - with the knowledge that, beneath all that, he had something better about him than she knew. It seemed, she thought, that the young man had decided to get to know his father better despite the animosity he had felt towards him. How else would he have picked out such an oddly appropriate gift?

By chance?

Maybe.

But she liked to think that he'd taken the time to get to know his father enough that both his love of tea, and his habit of fiddling with pernickety bits of technology, had come up in conversation.

She was drawn from her musings as Thane manoeuvred her in front of him, setting down the bottle and embracing her from behind.

"It was thoughtful of him, yes" he agreed, gesturing towards the glowing interface and revelling in being able to share something so..charmingly _domestic_ as making tea with her. "The top button, Siha.." he instructed, finding the shocked glance she gave him over her shoulder greatly endearing.

"You want me to..?" she asked, her disbelief at his allowing her to even consider interacting with something so delicate obvious. Her propensity to accidentally do murder on small household appliances had been legendary aboard the Normandy. It wasn't that she _tried_ to do it. She simply forgot, on occasion, that not all tech was military grade. Thus, she was less careful than she ought to be and..well..the appliance, usually a coffeepot that caught her on the wrong side of 5am, would come off second best. With this in mind, the fact that her mate, who was equally as well known for how well he cared for his belongings, would think to let her within this one's minimum safe distance was astounding to her.

His mind though, it seemed, was made up.

"Of course" he encouraged, giving the shell of her right ear a gentle stroke as she goggled at him. Though her shock tickled him, he kept his tone warm and his face more or less straight as he directed her back to the panel. After an uncertain pause, she reached out.

"The top one, right?" she asked, fingers hovering.

"Yes"

She pressed it as instructed, and watched as the contraption she was sure, moments ago, that she'd break by simply breathing near it, closed itself up briefly before a slim draw poked out towards her. Had she less control over her wits, she'd think the thing was poking its tongue out at her.

"Ok" she said, looking back at her beau quickly, "What's it asking for now?"

"Tea, of course" he smiled, reaching around her and bringing the little circular pot he had fetched over front and centre. "I'd recommend no more than one spoonful. The blend is potent."

"Gottcha.." Ami nodded, pursing her lips in concentration as she opened the little pot. A delicate looking silver spoon, tiny and slender, sat amid dried black tealeaves, and she used it to carefully confer no more than Thane's recommendation into the tea maker's draw. Once she was done, she sat both pot and spoon back down carefully on the table and inclined her head to speak to Thane.

"And..top again?" she asked, her fingers hovering over the button. She gave it a press at his rumbled affirmative, watching as the appliance closed up and hummed into life. When the 'brewing in progress' icon popped up on the interface, she couldn't help herself.

"_Heeeey_!" she cheered, pointing at the little animated cup slowly filling up and giving a fist-pump at her success. "Did it!"

"Well done" Thane drawled wryly, muffling the chuckle that her little celebration drew from him by kissing the crown of her head. Ami didn't miss the snickering note in his voice though, and grumbled amiably while shifting in his arms and leaning into him carefully. He appreciated her caution, his chest still faintly sore if encountered without care, and tightened his embrace about her in thanks.

"I know you" she said, crossing her arms over his at her waist and smiling when she felt him rest his chin to the top of her head. "You wouldn't let me within ten feet of the thing if you really thought I'd kill it."

"Twenty feet, actually" he quipped, expecting and accepting her huff of mock indignation and the little chastising pat on the wrist she gave him for his wit.

"Fine fine, twenty" she groused light-heartedly, catching his backhanded flattery only because she'd learned to pick it out through knowing him for as long as she had, "but I'm taking that as a compliment you know." She craned her neck around a little, her mate relaxing his grip upon her and meeting her eyes over her left shoulder.

"That you'd let me this close after so much caution" she said, decoding his words and basking in the warmth of his full attention, "says a lot about how much you trust me."

The hum of approval her insightfulness earned went right through her, and she drew breath to ask her beau why she had never felt it so keenly before today. Before she could though, the tea maker demanded, with a strident bleep, that she pay attention to it. It had finished its cycle and was adamant that, despite her distraction, she should retrieve her mug _now_.

* * *

><p>Seven and one half minutes, a scolded fingertip and a spate of mild cursing later, chairs were pulled up at the table and conversation turned to Thane's recovery. He was infinitely patient in answering the thousand-and-one questions Ami posed him, his attention to detail and the crisp clarity with which he spoke undimmed by the passing of his illness, and Ami delighted in listening to him recollect the various self-imposed milestones he'd set and surpassed on the road to recovery.<p>

The early ones were very small indeed, but also great in their own right. He spoke with distinct pride, for example, about being able to clench his fists an increasing number of times with every day that passed after his operation, and of managing to sit up enough to read his books without needing assistance after a week of repeated and persistent effort.

As the treatments eased in intensity and he began to regain the strength they had sapped from him, his goals grew more challenging. Getting out of bed without assistance was the first. Once this was accomplished, he graduated to making it across the room, then to doing both of those as well as making it a measured distance along the corridor and back. That distance grew to match his accomplishments until finally, a month and a half back, he was able to confidently make it around three floors of the hospital without need of support or rest.

Now, he concluded, almost seven months on from when he began, his dedication was paying dividends. By coupling his self-determined goals with the rehabilitation and exercise regimen he vociferously pursued, he was, if a little tired and possessed of a couple of soreness-induced oddities about his gait, well on the road to regaining much of his strength.

Though Ami wasn't aware of it at the time, Thane was, through this talk of progress and returning strength, hoping to politely guide them towards the topic of his joining her aboard the Normandy. Since the first reports of her escape from Earth reached him, he had set his mind on doing just that, and now sought only the appropriate time to raise the topic with her. He listened as she spoke glowingly of her gladness for his returning prowess, dipping his head modestly until her fingers found his chin and drew him back to her. She studied him for a long moment then, and he saw his chance.

"Siha.." he spoke, but she caught him, breathing a wispy "Sshh.." as her fingertips touched his lips in an affectionate, polite gesture for quiet as she looked upon him. He obliged, content in the knowledge that he could raise the issue with her later, though couldn't quell the need to kiss the pads of her fingers as she lingered so close to him. The smile she gave him in response was wide enough that it made the corners of her eyes crinkle.

"I'm so proud of you.." she murmured, her voice laced with warm affection as she closed a little of the already slight distance between them and leant, her fingers slipping along her mate's jaw, to press a markedly tender congratulatory kiss to his lips.

It began as an almost chaste affection, soft and lingering, with smiles and mirthful huffs traded as one lead into the next, and that was just fine. Though a creature of _monumental_ passion, particularly where her beau was concerned, Ami knew better than to hurry here. Outside of their most pressing, most needful encounters, where ardour erased all thoughts but to sate needs _most_carnal, kissing Thane Krios was not something she could rush. To do so would be to overlook the softness of his lips..the warmth of his breath..his taste, unsweetened tea and his own subtle flavour, rediscovered by her when they slowed their delicate touches of lip to lip to playfully, desirously, touch tongues.

And that..that feeling..just about..did it.

After a second's-worth of silent communication, hooded eyes meeting hooded eyes across the bare inch they had between them, they moved in tandem, each tilting their head the requisite number of degrees to allow them to bring their lips together fully. The contact was echoed by a soft and appreciative moan which may have escaped either or both of them, but neither had the focus to care.

Even now though, as Ami's hands came up to cup her mate's head and his own found her throat, her cheek..as they traded open-lipped kisses and their tongues touched and caressed..there was no real haste to how they expressed their affection. No hurry to complete one kiss and begin the next. No impassioned frenzy that would make hands clumsy or bring teeth against teeth in their haste. Such was not the meaning behind this kiss. It was instead the act of lovers remaking a long-missed, intimate acquaintance with each other after too long forced apart. Of reunion and re-learning, and of rediscovering old, well loved common ground.

They parted gradually, gifting each other's lips a final, tender suckle before settling, their brows gently touched together, eyes closed, in a moment of silent appreciation of each other's presence. And it was then..while Ami's fingers were set to caressing Thane's frill and his thumbs stroked her jaw..that his resolve to wait for an 'appropriate time' to bring up his wish to travel with her deserted him and he whispered, "I would come with you, Siha" against her lips.

There was no thought behind it.

No plan.

The words felt correct. Easy.

They just..came.

He didn't even think to await a response, so caught up was he in the feel of her, and so engrossed in him was she that, although she'd heard him quite clearly, the words didn't register at first. She nodded, murmured a blissful, "Yeah of course" and gave his lips another loving kiss before her memory looped on her and she actually _heard_ what he'd said. When she did, she sat back, staggered.

"..You..Wait, _what_?"

It took considerable effort for him to gather his wits, but when he had Thane sat himself up comfortably and, noting the four shades of shock and elation that passed over his Siha's face, repeated himself. "I would join you aboard the Normandy."

A tense beat of staring passed before Ami managed to splutter, "You're..I..now wait..wait a second" her head dropping into her hands while she tried to collect her suddenly scattered thoughts. Her beau frowned with concern.

"Have I overreached myself in wishing this?" he asked, hoping that he hadn't tripped over some social convention he was unaware of by more or less _telling_ her that he wanted to travel with her again. Though he knew that stating a want plainly was, so long as it was done tactfully, not offensive in human culture, he hadn't a clue whether being so blunt as to tell a ship's captain that he _would_travel with her was appropriate.

...And looking back...he had to question whether his delivery was truly that tactful at all...

Knowing that the best road in such situations was the humble one, he sought to clarify himself and apologise, but Ami spoke first.

"No!" she said, raising her head and looking at him again, "of course you haven't..I just.." She trailed off, giving a huff of laughter and raking her fingers through her hair. "You sure know how to take a girl off guard."

With dramatic aplomb, Thane cocked a brow. "If my desire to be near you comes as a shock, Siha" he said, a hint of levity replacing the concern he felt, "I'm not doing my job right."

Despite herself, Ami couldn't help but smile at his turn of phrase. She reached then, seeking and accepting his hands as they slid into hers. "You're doing it _fine_" she assured him. "We just need to slow this down a bit. I'm getting two very different answers to the thought of you coming aboard ringing in my head right now."

"May I ask what they are?" Thane pressed curiously, stroking his mate's knuckles with the pads of his thumbs. She pursed her lips in thought before answering.

"The heart's screaming 'Yes, for the love of God gather him up and take him!'..and the head's agreeing but added, '**THINK** about it you impulsive cretin. There's a war on and he's been deathly ill for years'..So..I need to think..and I need you to feed me information while I think, all right?"

He gave a slight nod, trying not to smile too widely at how she expressed her inner dispute. "Tell me what you need to know."

Ami took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and trying to settle her thoughts into some kind of coherent order. "Ok.." she began, "I need to know that the Normandy can meet your needs. Medically I mean. I know we've got Dr Chakwas on-board, and I know she knows your case, but she hasn't seen you since the Normandy was dry-docked..so.." she paused for thought before settling on a good first question.

"You mentioned rehabilitation. Could you do that aboard the Normandy? "

"I could" he replied, easing one of his hands from her grasp so he could take a sip of his tea before elaborating. "It began as soon as I was strong enough to see a benefit from it after my operation. The intensity grew over time, and the amount of assistance I required diminished as my strength returned. The 'rehabilitation' now is stretching and gentle exercise, and I am more than capable of seeing to that without medical aid."

Ami listened avidly, filing away the details as her beau explained. "All right.." she said, ticking off the first box in her hastily put together 'bringing Thane aboard the Normandy' mental checklist. "Will you need me to requisition anything in particular to help with these exercises or.."

"No" Thane explained. "I require no aid in walking, and the stretches are much akin to human yoga. A little space and quiet are all I will require."

_There went checkbox number two.._

"..Ok.." Ami said, moving on down the list. She approached the next point cautiously, not wanting to pry but knowing that she'd need to if her mind was to settle. "Would you mind explaining your actual treatments now? Not the physical therapy bit. We've got that bit down. Tell me about the rest."

Though he noted the apologetic cast to her expression, Thane was entirely unbothered by her question. "I have two kinds of treatments, Siha" he explained patiently, taking another sip from his mug. "Passive ones, which are concerned with maintaining my health, and active ones, which combat my illness directly. The passive part is made up of simple oral medications. Drell-specific vitamin supplements and broad spectrum antibiotics are my present prescription."

"Is that likely to change?"

"It never has. The passive regimen has been the same, but for the strength of the antibiotics, since my operation. While the incision here.." he sat his mug down carefully and gestured to his chest with his free hand, "was still healing, the dosage was triple what it is now. Just in case an infection set in. Luckily, none did."

_Box three..check.._

"Ok..I'm with you so far..What about the active part?"

"The active part of my treatment is given intravenously" he noted, returning his hand to hers. "Every evening two injections are administered, usually by my doctor, though I can self-administer if necessary."

"Sorry.." Ami put in, suddenly sheepish, " I feel really silly for asking but, why are there two?"

"You're the least from silly, Siha" Thane assured her. "They have entirely distinct functions. One is an immunosuppressant which is concerned with maintaining the integrity of my lungs and stopping the immune response which causes the cluster of symptoms that is commonly known as Keprals Syndrome. And the second targets the vascular damage the disease left me with and promotes self-repair."

_Box four..check.._

Though markedly interested and itching to dig deeper, Ami's practicality, this time, won out and had her ask the single important question she'd thought of as opposed to the five tangential ones his description brought to mind. "And you'd be able to access those if you came aboard?"

"I would, yes" Thane replied. "The immunosuppressant is, though specialised, relatively common and easy to get a hold of. I would, were I to join you, fill a six month recurring prescription and pick up a new batch as necessary. And the same is true of the vascular self-repair formula. It is a common drug that is regularly prescribed to Keprals sufferers to slow down the illness's progression. In my case however, since the condition has been eradicated, it can actually do lasting repair." The flutter of bliss that unfurled through him as he spoke those words actually made his voice waver slightly, and drew a deeply affectionate smile from Ami as she asked,

"Are you taking anything else or..?"

"No, that's all. All of the heavy treatments..those which rid me of the disease..were administered in the month prior to and the formative months after my operation. Once they were confirmed as being successful, my current regime began in earnest."

"And that's..what.." she guessed, "two pills and a couple of injections?"

"It's six pills and two injections actually" Thane jovially corrected. "Four vitamin tablets. Two antibiotic tablets, and the injections, yes."

"And that's it.." Ami breathed, shaking her head in disbelief as her mate tilted his in a polite affirmative. "Unbelievable..Mordin..God, Mordin deserves.." she trailed off, unable to stipulate something she could give the man in payment.

"You know he wouldn't accept anything from you, Siha" Thane noted, stroking his hands along her bare forearms before retaking hers. "Besides, I doubt he did all of the work he has done for the betterment of a single Drell."

Ami perked up at this, broken from her contemplations. "What do you mean?"

"I know no specifics" he said, "but I do know that Mordin requested that the medical board allow me to remain on the ward after my need for the hospital's facilities ended, so that he could continue to monitor my case. We have been in communication, he and I, and he often speaks of 'outside applications' for the therapy he devised through treating me."

Ami thought on this for a moment, and came to a conclusion that..if a little outlandish..certainly wasn't outside the realms of possibility given Mordin's past exploits. "Do you think he's..looking to beat the Illuminated Primacy to the punch?" she asked, referring to the Hanars' repeated attempts at making the Drell immune to Keprals Syndrome.

"I'm unsure of his motivations" Thane replied, gently steering their conversation back on topic, "but I'm sure that he will be just as able to monitor my progress aboard the Normandy as he is here. In fact.." he added, his voice gaining a mildly conspiratory edge, "I'd wager that it would be easier for him. The way he tells it, the bureaucracy involved in consulting on a patient's case here is an abomination."

Chuckling at his none-too-subtle nudge, Ami checked off box five on her checklist. "Ok Mr 'making my case for getting sprung from the hospital'.." she said, becoming a lick more serious as she spoke, "let me make something clear now. I don't care how well you feel, how quickly you're healing or what Mordin's got planned for Kahje. If you come with me, I'll be dead before I see you out on active duty. You copy?"

"Understood" Thane agreed, unsurprised by her insistence and, in small ways, glad of it. Though he took immense pride in his physical abilities, he was not so stubborn as to be blind to the fact that he wasn't fit for frontline combat.

Physically robust in general, yes.

Able to withstand day-to-day life and its knocks, certainly.

But combat? Not yet.

He did, however, have a thought as to how he could be of use to her off of the frontline.

"If I may though.." he brooked, waiting for her nod of assent before continuing. "I believe my training may yet be of use to your war effort. I cannot fight" he noted quickly, sensing her brewing dissent, "and do not seek to. But I can train others to fight. I can advise, strategise and deconstruct threats."

Shepard nodded as she listened, slipping her hands from Thane's, lacing her fingers together and bowing her head in concentration as she forced herself to explore the situation through the lens of 'Commander'. She was certain beyond all doubt that Thane wasn't up to combat, hence her insistence on him staying out of active duty. She could square that away. The entirety of her support staff weren't frontline fighters and Thane, even now, was four times any one of them by virtue of his experience alone.

Yes, he had medications he had to take, but they were common. As long as she could make sure that the medbay was well stocked with what he needed, which she could given her status and right, as captain of a ship, to procure what she needed to uphold the duty of care she had over her crew, that wouldn't be an issue.

His explanation of what he could bring to the crew was entirely valid, and there sure as heck was room onboard for another combat expert, irrespective of the fact he'd only be advising. Cerberus were becoming a recurring problem for her on missions, and she'd use anything he could give her to make dealing with them in their various offensive capacities easier on her and her team.

There was an issue though. Not with him. She could accommodate him, now that she knew what she was dealing with, without a single problem. Life Support was ready and waiting for him if he wanted a quiet place to spend some time alone, and for all other times, her quarters were his quarters. That just wasn't up for question.

No, the issue was her motives for bringing him aboard in the first place.

She questioned herself.

Was she just considering this because she'd missed him?

Because she wanted him and needed him close to her, if he could be without risking his health?

And most worryingly, were these facts blinding her to dangers inherent in him coming with her, and therefore putting him at risk?

That last point she'd need help with setting right in her mind. She'd need Dr Chakwas to review his files to make triply sure that he could handle the move and would be safe onboard the Normandy.

But the rest? Her motives?

She knew, in her heart-of-hearts and if she _really_ looked closely, that while she'd definitely benefit personally from his being with her, it wasn't her sole reason for wanting him on the Normandy. She had been unbiased in her assessment of his worth to the crew and could honestly say that, even if they hadn't been as close as they were, she'd have taken his offer in a heartbeat.

What she couldn't do though, was discuss his coming with her any further without being honest with him about her reasons for wanting him to come along. He'd been candid with her when he first brought it up. He'd told her outright that he wanted to be close to her. Now it was her turn to be candid in return.

Raising her head from her contemplations she met her mate's gaze, watching his face as he concluded his roundup of how he could benefit the war effort by joining her aboard the Normandy. She gave a measured nod when he fell quiet, collected her thoughts, and began.

"I'm gonna have to talk as two people now Thane because, as you know from serving with me, I _am_ two distinct people to you. There's Shepard, who's your commanding officer. And there's Ami, who's..well..yours."

"As I am yours" he replied, nodded his understanding as his Siha gave him a helplessly affectionate smile. He was implicitly aware of what it was to live as two people, having done so for much of his life. To her 'Shepard' there was Thane Krios, assassin. And to her 'Ami' there was Thane Krios, husband, father..and now, mate. These Thanes, though they shared a name, couldn't have been more different; just as 'Ami' and 'Shepard' differed by leagues from each other in many ways.

Though his words went right to the heart of her, Shepard gathered her professionalism about herself and focused on the task at hand. "Speaking as your commanding officer" she said, "I can't see any reason why I should refuse your request to rejoin the Normandy. But I'm gonna need you to meet me half way on this."

Thane cocked his head to the side slightly, curious. "How so?"

"We're hauling out at 22:00 tonight. We've got assignments to complete and resources to collect, and I don't want you rushed off your feet running to catch up with our schedule. When you leave this place, and you will, I want you to be calm and ready to get to work. So, here's our half way. We're due back on the Citadel in eight days time. That's when our contacts want their goods and when we're booked in for minor refits in engineering."

That sounded familiar. "Upgrades?" he asked, smirking faintly.

"You got it in one. We're costing the Alliance a fortune" Shepard snickered, though she quickly became serious again. "Anyway. We're back in eight days, and if, by then, you've sent your medical files over to Chakwas so she knows what to do with you when you arrive, and if your doctors here clear you to travel, you're as good as conscripted. Your experience is one of a kind and I know you can contribute a hell of a lot to the team, even standing back from the frontline."

"I'm grateful for the opportunity" Thane replied, bowing his head in thanks despite his disappointment at the thought of having to wait before he could rejoin the crew. He understood her caution however, and was comforted by the fact that she was so welcoming of the idea that she was going so far as to make plans with him about it. Of all the outcomes he had foreseen resulting from his request, this was second only to leaving with her _now_.

"And we're glad to have you" she replied, taking a moment to rake her fingers through her hair before refocusing on her objective. Candid honesty with Thane.

"Now..speaking as your Ami.." she began, visibly shedding her veil of professionalism as she prepared to lay herself bare to him. It was small things that marked its departure; that made the change from 'Shepard' to 'Ami' obvious. Her posture relaxed and her eyes, once focused and stern, warmed visibly as she looked at him. She sought his hands again, welcoming them into hers where before she'd released them in an effort to put literal professional distance between them. Most tellingly of all though, her voice lost the measured quality it had when she spoke as Shepard. Ami paused, misspoke on occasion, and had a habit of speaking as her thoughts came to her, as they did now.

"..Ever since you brought up coming with me.." she said, "..all I've done is..try and dissect the logic behind the decision. I've got caution in one ear, reminding me that I need you to make sure that you're fit to travel because I'm petrified by the thought of rushing you aboard only to have you get sick. And I've got.." she huffed softly, gesturing to her right ear before slipping her hand back into Thane's, "..pretty much everything else in the other ear, yelling at me to get my act together and take you with me..and I realised not two minutes ago that I hadn't even said, outright, that I wanted you to come with me at all."

"Siha.." Thane drew, lacing their fingers carefully, "implication is like a second language to me. I hear even what is not said..I always have.."

Ami shook her head. "You shouldn't have to" she said. "Not with me. So..listen a second. Please?"

Struck by how suddenly vulnerable she sounded, he gave a slight nod.

"I want you to come with me" she began, "not because of your skills..or what you can give to the war effort. Those things are important, but they're not why I want..no..why I need you on the Normandy. Mordin said it better than I ever could.. ..He once told me that fighting to save a galaxy's worth of people just..wasn't fathomable to him. He could think it in his mind, obviously. Could crunch the numbers and knew the stakes..but it wasn't personal to him." She paused a moment, feeling her heart flutter at the intensity of her mate's gaze.

"He needed a personal connection to what he was fighting for to make it feel worthwhile to_ him_.." she went on, emotion making her voice quiver faintly as she spoke, "..To make it meaningful. Worth the sacrifices. He chose his favourite nephew as his reason to keep up the fight.. ..And mine.. ..I.._can't_ believe it took almost losing you for me to say this out loud..Mine is you.."

A whispered "..Ami.." escaped Thane's lips quite without his having meant it to..perhaps as an expression of modesty..or perhaps one of simple shock at how openly she spoke..and Ami reached, cupping his jaw with both hands.

"I love you, Thane Krios" she enthused, watching as the intensity in her beau's face melted into utter delight. "And there's nowhere else I'd rather be than by your side."

He knew.

Of course he did.

As with many things between them, their affection for each other was most often expressed in quiet ways. A look across a room..Toes touched to an ankle beneath a table..Fingers covertly laced together during an elevator ride..It was simply how it was done between them. Quietly. Never hidden, but never made overt.

But somehow..saying it out loud now..making it plain..and hearing him reply, as he embraced her and pressed their brows together, with an emotion-gripped "And I love you"..just made everything..right.

* * *

><p>That evening, Ami and Thane parted ways at the main doors of Huerta Memorial with the promise to reunite eight days hence. Because they had been in a public space then, they politely shook hands before going their separate ways. Both though were showing the effects of their day together. Thane's gait had lost all but the faintest whisper of unease about it, and Ami may as well have been walking two feet off the floor on her way back to Docking Bay D24.<p>

The faint beginning twinge of a very familiar, very welcome itch on her fingers and neck made it all the sweeter. If she ended up bathing in cold cream tomorrow, so be it.

Thane was healthy, and was coming home soon.

...

Settled back in his room after Ami's departure, Thane pulled the blinds that hung over his windows half-closed to dim the 'natural' ambient light, took a seat at his table and sent two messages from his Omni-tool. The first was to his doctor, asking for a meeting in the morning to discuss transferring his notes, and his person, to the Normandy. And the second read thus,

/Kolyat.

How are you? I would speak with you after your shift tomorrow evening. There are things we must discuss. I am in fine health son, worry not.

Rest well.

- Thane/


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: Welcome all to the third chapter of News. Again, as ever, I must extend a big thank you everyone who read, enjoyed, favourited, followed, commented or didn't on the story. I take every comment and suggestion onboard and do my best to improve as a writer in light of them. This is the first of two chapters I've uploaded/am uploading this time round. The next will be along in a day or so. I hope you enjoy them both, for I thoroughly enjoyed writing them. I certainly will keep this work updated, but as I said in my last note, my schedule hops about a bit because of work and other writing projects I've got on the go.

My sincere and humble thanks again for all of your kind support and suggestions.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>Day 1<span>

**_Reflecting on his father's plan to go to war brings Kolyat Krios to a decision_**

The first thing a newcomer to the Citadel would notice, outside of its grandeur and size obviously, was the fact that it lacked a proper day-to-night cycle. There was no dimming of the ambient light on the Presidium to signal the coming of the evening, no early morning haze or dusky twilight. It was high-noon eternally in terms of both light and bustling activity, and it was through that din that Kolyat Krios strode as he made his way along one of the many bridges that spanned the artificial lakes and streams on the Presidium. Anger shortened his gait, and he held his shoulders up defensively as he moved through the crowds. It was a rare thing for him to visit the Citadel's most affluent districts and their manicured parks, his apartment and workplace being down in the Wards, but today..

Today he needed to see water.

To be reminded a little of Kahje.

Of open skies and endless oceans and spice and welcome and..home.

It was the only thing, outside of a night on the tiles that he had no inclination of having, that would settle his mind after the day's events.

Looking back, he should have known that he was in for trouble when his father's message arrived yesterday evening. It piqued his interest as soon as he read it, and though it was as non-specific as his notes always were, he'd gleaned from the use of the word 'must' that there was something important that needed talking through. Were this not the case, Thane would have written something like, 'We might discuss..' or 'Would you care to discuss..' instead.

It was his habit to use words carefully, when he used them at all.

With all this in mind, Kolyat spent his monochrome workday wondering over possible things his father might want to bring up, and had actually..almost..been looking forward to spending a bit of time in the blissful warmth of his room at Huerta Memorial. Were he less proud, he'd find it quite easy to curl up and snooze in there for an hour or so. The warmth demanded it of any self-respecting Drell.

Now though, not even the memory of that perfect ambient temperature could warm him. It'd been almost an hour since he left Huerta after visiting his father. As it turned out, he'd been right about there having been something particular that needed discussing, but had amended his thoughts about it being important as soon as he fully understood what it was.

'Selfish' was a better word for it in his opinion.

'Gods-awful' was a close second place, with 'Unwelcome' and 'Confusing' tying for third.

A low hissing rumble of agitation escaped Kolyat as his thoughts came and went, though it was as lost amid the crowd as he was.

Nothing made sense any more.

Over the almost seven months since his father arrived on the Citadel seeking medical care, Kolyat, despite his reservations, had done his best to be as present in his life as he could. He didn't much like the man, and hell if he forgave him for abandoning his family, but he wasn't heartless. In that time he'd watched him go from resigned to death, to wrenchingly ill in the period immediately after his operation, to taking the first steps along in his recovery, to being healthier than he'd been in fifteen years, and he'd thought that, despite their differences, they were making good progress. He made the trip between Zakera Ward and Huerta every third day, his shifts permitting, and spent hours sat by his father's bedside either reading with him, learning little bits about the Gods he praised or just sitting quietly as he slept, trying to ignore the fact that, animosity aside, he was glad to be there with him.

After a time he'd felt secure enough to start giving of himself as well, allowing Thane to get to know him in return. He told him of his job at C-Sec, _-I'll be beginning my Officer's training soon father-_, of his modest home, _-It's in Zakera's housing district. Block C, door 16. It's more of a box in the wall than a home really but..it's mine..-_, of the people he knew at work, _-Ollie's my supervisor..there's Bryn and Scalia too, from tech-division..they're..ok..-_, and of places on the Wards he liked to visit when he had time off.

Nothing more personal than these vague niceties was shared, but Thane never pushed, and shared bits of himself in return for each titbit he received. Granted they didn't quite match up topic-wise to what Kolyat told him about, but he shared nonetheless.

Small things.

In place off talking about work, he spoke of tea.

Instead of his housing arrangements, he named and quoted from his favourite poems.

And rather than talking in any real depth about his former teammates, he regaled him with harmless anecdotes from his time aboard the Normandy. The one about tricking Shepard with something called a 'Rubik's Cube' was his personal favourite so far. Father had actually become something like animated as he spoke of how the Commander neglected to notice, in mixing up the cube-thing for him to decode during one of his stays in the medical bay, that he was watching the movements of her hands as she did so. It took her hours to realise quite how he'd managed to repeatedly return the thing in perfect order within a minute of having it passed to him.

The old man was crafty, Kolyat would give him that.

As the months passed and the visits became less tense, they began branching out a bit. They took to going on long walks around the hospital together. Kolyat made a point of borrowing Scalia's holo-cam, and had filled its memory twice-over with pictures from all over the Citadel. He'd bring them along to show his father when he came to see him, and they'd spent hours picking through them either in silence, or in an almost-comfortable-not-quite-silence where Thane would ask him about the holos that caught his eye especially.

It was a break in the monotony of his day, if nothing else.

And slowly.. inexorably..with the passing of each month and the spending of quality time..Kolyat had begun to feel that he was coming to understand his father. Or..at least coming to understand what trying to understand him would entail.

After today though..

After sitting across a table from him, trying not to show how much the words, 'I am leaving the Citadel to contribute to Commander Shepard's war effort' affected him, Kolyat was damn sure he'd never understand his father at all. The scene flashed before him with remembered clarity as he mingled through the crowds surrounding him. He spoke not a word, Drellish recollections being entirely private outside of their use in conversation, but couldn't keep his expression from blackening with remembered anger as it passed.

_-I stare in disbelief, helpless for seconds, and he stares back, inscrutable and calm..'You're joking..right?' I say, watching his eyes and listening intently for any hint of clarification. 'No.' he says. The word is crisp, clipped and efficient. Finality incarnate. His chest is silent as he speaks.-_

So taken was he by the memory that he barely pulled up in time when a flash of blue and an exasperated "HEY! Watch it!" signalled his almost having a head-on collision with an Asari who was walking in the opposite direction. Faintly disorientated at being wrenched from his recollections so suddenly, he drew breath to curse but thought better of it. Being in expensive places brought him within a spit's distance of expensive people, and those could, with the passing of a credit chit, wreck his career before it'd even begun. With that in mind he swallowed back the kneejerk, 'You blind son-of-a-bitch!' that was his go-to in times of shock and/or stress, and instead dipped his chin and muttered, "Oh..sorry.." before moving past the woman and quickly putting distance between them to escape her vitriol. He sneered to himself as soon as he was past her, disgusted that his words sounded as hollow as his father's chest always had.

Though outwardly stoic, the Drell are a vocal people - even the quietest of them possessing a vocal range four times that of the average Human - and they use their highest and lowest pitches and tones both to imbue their language with the emotion behind their words, and to put across basic ideas without the need for words at all. Only very simple ones of course..

'I'm angry'..

'I love you'..

'I'm scared'..

'You're safe here'..

Things like that.

Without those tones, which resonate deeply within the speaker's chest and feel, to anyone who happens to be touching him, similar to pressing a hand against an amplifier when the volume is turned up, the language loses its flavour. The person speaking sounds detached and out of place, like he's simply talking, not actually connecting with the person he's conversing with.

That distance, that lack of connection, was what Kolyat remembered most keenly about his father's voice as he was growing up. Thane was a quiet man beyond the means of most quiet men, his chest almost always silent. Lacking the resonances that allow Drell to emote through sound alone. There were occasions where the veneer would break..particularly when one of those old fashioned songs would play and he'd scoop up his son to dance crazy..but even that stopped when Kolyat reached the age of about nine.

As a child, he had never understood why his father was like that. His mother always explained it away, whispering to him about how Thane liked to be silent because it meant he could win often at the games Kolyat was always trying to play with him. The fact that he actually played those games more rarely than he used his full vocal range had never clicked back then.

..Well..no..That wasn't quite fair..

He played along. A request to play hide-and-seek would be met with a nod, and smile, and a measured 'Of course, son'..but even though he knew the game, he wouldn't hide. Wouldn't play. He'd leave the room, usually going to the kitchen to linger near mother while Kolyat counted to whichever number he'd picked, but that was it.

Back then he'd thought it was just father being father. It was something to poke gentle fun at. He was bad at playing games, and awful at reading bedtime stories because he didn't follow the tone-pattern the way mother would.

Now though, Kolyat knew better.

He knew what Thane was, and what a boon silence would be to a man like him. Knowing that what had confused him as a boy was at least partly a result of years of training under the Compact made his childhood memories haunting in a way, and forced him to re-examine his thoughts about his father in light of facts he wasn't at all comfortable with.

What he could face though was the fact that, while the silence was something that he was used to, and indeed something he was slowly becoming able to get past as he and his father took their tentative steps closer to one another, the sudden feeling of distance that accompanied it during his talk with him today was jarring. It wasn't that Thane had pulled away from him in any sense. Kolyat just felt that something which could easily break all of the bridges he'd been working so hard on making between them had come right out of left field, and there seemed to be little to nothing he could do about it. The memory of their confrontation returned unbidden, his voice and his father's going back and forth in his mind.

_-'But father..' I say, trying to keep how shocked I am from reaching my voice, 'you've only just got back on your feet!'_

_'I have been properly physically able for the past two months, Kolyat.' he replies, his words rich with finality but otherwise toneless._

_I chuff my disbelief and unease openly, enjoying the fact that he blinks to cover how his secondary eyelids snap closed in response. He always did disapprove of sudden noises. 'Physically able to walk around the hospital, sure' I retort, 'but you're not fit to fight!'_

_Father draws himself up in his chair. 'My role will be advisory only' he says, 'Commander Shepard said herself that she will not risk my safety on the frontlines. I need never leave the Normandy.'_

_My composure slips. 'For the love of..' I begin, then purse my lips tightly, unwilling to show myself up in front of him. I force down the bile in my throat and scrub a hand across my face before snapping, 'Taking an advisory role on a warship puts you no further from danger than if you were on the frontlines!'-_

The words rang in Kolyat's ears as though they'd just been spoken, and he pushed his recollections away before they could really take hold. The last thing he needed was another almost-collision caused by solipsistic inattention.

As he was carried further along the bridge by the crowds, he looked around in search of something to focus on that wasn't his boiling discomfort at the situation with his father. Given the precedent he'd set for himself through his more recent years, this shouldn't have been hard. He was masterful at ignoring things that he just didn't want to deal with. Now though, nothing seemed to hold his attention for long. Not the dappled collection of blues, silvers and pinks that made up the crowd he was engulfed by..not the little gardened island that the bridge was slowly leading him towards..not the changing billboards flashing on the sides of a couple of the larger buildings, or the vendor he just passed who was selling various flavours of crushed ice in cones..

It all failed him, and damn it he knew why.

Loathe as he was to admit it, and though he'd usually avoid doing so like the Gods-damned plague, he knew that he wouldn't be able to settle until he actually set his mind to dealing with what was troubling him. He had to focus now, to really think the situation out and decide what to do about it, so he abandoned the crowd, found himself a quiet spot by the bridge's railing, propped his elbows on it and stared out across the lake.

..And though he fought it..facing himself didn't seem so difficult when he could gaze at the Citadel's own Encompassing while he did it.

He found he could acknowledge the fact that, though it felt like a betrayal of the mistrust and animosity he still felt towards him in some measure, he was worried by his father's decision to travel on the Normandy again. This was more than worry about those bridges he'd been trying to make though. He had too many memories of him struggling during his recovery, and had spent too many nights at his bedside sure that he was about to lose him, for anything like what he was proposing to even resemble a good idea.

His health was returning, sure, but Kalahira it'd been a close thing. And now, when he'd just started to feel like he was gaining ground..getting his father back in small ways..he was up and leaving the damn Citadel to play war. The decision seemed too sudden, too quick for it to have been rightly thought through and..honestly..the neatness with which the man seemed intent on excising himself from his life again..

It..reached him.

Hell, if he examined it closely enough he'd admit, if only to himself, that it upset him.

And that irked the ever-living shit out of him.

In a small, petty part of his mind he couldn't help feeling sore over the fact that, even though they'd been..almost-sort-of bonding for the past half a galactic-standard year..his father had found a worthier cause than his son to devote his time to.

He knew that was a selfish thought.

He knew it was childish and petty and closed-minded and small, not to mention unrepresentative of the fact that the 'worthier cause' was the biggest war this cycle had ever witnessed. But Gods damn it was it too much to ask that his father, whose company, by the way, he found he could actually..tolerate, didn't jump ship every chance he got?

With a hiss-edged-huff Kolyat laced his fingers together and lowered his head, closing his eyes for a moment and forcing himself to loosen his grip on that part of his reasoning. Of course he still felt wronged by his father's want to up and leave again. No species in the galaxy could hold a candle to the Drell when it came to nursing grudges. But he knew he couldn't use the 'it's not fair on me' argument in this situation. He was grown now, more or less. Young still but grown. He had a job. Acquaintances. His own place. A life. And his father had helped him get those things..albeit in a small and very oblique manner. Hell, if it hadn't been for him and Shepard..

_-Blue eyes glare at me down the barrel of a loaded gun. It's held level with my chest by steady hands. She doesn't move to breathe, her focus solely on me. I can feel it on my scales. It's..heavy.-_

His eyes flickered open as the memory faded, something about the thought of the Commander sticking in his mind. He knew almost nothing about the woman outside of what the news spouted, and the fact that she'd convinced the now Commander Bailey to let him work for C-Sec instead of rotting in prison.

Really speaking though, he didn't care to know more.

Didn't need to.

For her help, he was grateful, and he did his best to honour the faith she'd shown in him. Her decision to take father with her confused him, but she'd made it and..

Wait..

Kolyat gave a quick double-blink as that thought looped back on him.

It was her decision..

Suddenly his disperate wanderings about his father and Shepard snapped into sharp relief, and he realised that he'd been approaching things from entirely the wrong angle. He knew damn well that he couldn't change his father's mind about travelling with the Commander again, but that didn't mean he couldn't try and talk her out of allowing him to go.

She'd likely decided to take him without having all the facts. Father certainly wouldn't have told her about the problems he'd had during his recovery, so how could she know?

Perhaps she'd reconsider if she did.

Turning back the way he came, Kolyat doubled his stride and headed for the nearest Rapid Transit terminal to call a shuttle. He didn't have the Commander's extranet address, so contacting her directly was out, but he did have two things which would make getting hold of her possible. The first was the fact that his father had mentioned that Shepard would be returning to collect him in eight or so days. Thus, he had a time-scale to work with.

And the second was his position at C-Sec. While he didn't have the necessary clearance to bother Citadel Control himself, not having earned his Officer's badge and the codes that come with it yet, he had access to people who DID. All he'd have to do is find himself a willing assistant, have that assistant locate the Normandy's last departure date, and then count forward eight days from it to find a give-or-take estimate of when the Commander would be back. If he kept an ear to the ground with customs around that time, he'd be able to take her aside when she disembarked and express his concern.

When he reached the terminal he hurriedly input his destination [C-Sec HQ Zakera Ward] and the serial number of the X3M idling nearest to him to activate it for his journey. As the shuttle hummed into life he shucked himself into the driver's seat, hitched it back a couple of inches so that he could drive and breathe at the same time, and laid his hands carefully over the haptic interface before him to get under-way.

The doors sealed with a soft hiss and gingerly, carefully he guided the vehicle into the transit lane which lead back towards Zakera Ward. Once he was happy with his trajectory, he clicked on the autopilot and activated his Omni-tool. Glancing between it and the lane that stretched out before him, he kept his speed steady and pinged two of his contacts. He was pretty sure that both of them had the access he needed, and they both owed him a favour too. He had a mind to use that to his advantage if he could.

..

One ping..

..

Two pings..

..

Then..a voice..

/Kolyat?/

As soon as he felt it coming, Kolyat suppressed the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips before it could rightly make itself known. Scalia would be the one to pick up, wouldn't she. The way her voice echoed, she was probably working under something gargantuan in the tech-labs back in Zakera's C-Sec branch. The woman never seemed to leave the office.

Keeping his eyes on the road and giving the occasional touch to the steering interface to keep the notoriously truculent guidance system in line, Kolyat answered in his best dispassionate tone.

"Yeah. I need to call in a favour, Scalia. Got a minute?"

/Are you driving, Kolyat? I can hear cars/

"Answer my question."

/Answer mine/

He paused a moment, rolling his eyes. "Yes."

/That's dangerous you know/

"Whatever. The favour, Scalia?"

/Depends what it is/ she retorted, the muted hiss of the can of Tupari she'd just opened following her words.

"You've got administrative access to all the databases on the system, right?"

/Why don't I like where this is going?/

"I need you to look up a ship's last departure date for me. It's important"

/What, the ship, or the reason you want me to hack Citadel Control to find it for you?/

An irritated rumble escaped him. "Scalia.."

/All right, all right/ she huffed, echoing that rumble of his just because she could and taking a sip from her drink, /What's the ship's name?/

There was no way to sugar-coat this, so he didn't try. "It's the SSV Normandy SR2"

..

There was a pause..then a hail of coughing..and then ragged words. /**WHAT**? The Normandy? As in Commander **SHEPARD'S** Normandy? Are you _**NUTS**_?/

Kolyat chuffed indignantly. "You're overreacting" he said, glancing to his right and slotting through the traffic where he could. It was always heavy at this time in the cycle. Everyone seemed to be moving between shifts.

/Says the Drell who just asked me to crack an Alliance warship! No, no. **THE** Alliance warship!/

"I didn't ask you to do that" he snapped, before catching himself and taking a breath. Arguing wouldn't get him anywhere. "All I need is its last departure date."

It took Scalia almost a full minute to respond. He only knew the line hadn't died on him because he could hear the uneasy trill that was the tell for Drellish discomfort echoing up as she breathed.

/If I do it, will you tell me why you need to know?/

He actually had to think about his answer to that one. He'd known Scalia a good five months now and found her..bearable. She was a friendly face at C-Sec. Someone who had talked his ears raw, and who he knew would listen if he needed a shoulder. Not that he ever thought he would mind, but there it was.

"If I don't" he said, coming back at her the way she usually did at him, "would you do it anyway?"

Soft laughter came over the channel at that. Not enjoying the fact he'd caused it took more effort than he'd ever let on. /Would you try and do it yourself if I didn't do it for you?/

"Yes"

She huffed. /You're terrible with computers Kolyat. Bailey'd find out for sure/

"I know."

/And he'd beat your arse for it. You'd lose your slot for Officer's training/

"I know that too."

..

/You're trying to guilt me into doing it for you, aren't you/

He feigned innocence, but answered through a smirk. "Am I?"

/Yes!/

"Is it working?"

..

..

/Yes/

..

"..So.."

/Are you coming back to the station?/

"Will you have the information I need in half an hour or so? Traffic's awful."

/Yes/

"Then yes."

/See you soon/

Closing the channel and keying off his Omni-tool, Kolyat refocused on the lane ahead of him. He didn't know what his chances were of having the Commander actually listen to him, or if he'd catch her at all when she came back to the Citadel. Plans can change without warning, so he'd need to be watchful of the roster if he wanted to have half a chance. What he did know though, was that she was a reasonable woman. Hell, look at how she'd handled his _cataclysmic_ mistake in judgement with Joram Talid. She'd not only been halfway to talking him down when C-Sec burst in and interrupted her, she'd wrangled him the best deal possible, all on good faith.

Yes..if anyone would listen to reason it'd be Shepard.

He just hoped what he had to tell her sounded half as good when he spoke it as it did in his head.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: And here is the fourth chapter. But God how **_LONG_ **it took me to get this out of my brain! My apologies for the delay, all. As you know, I cherish feedback and suggestions, so if any come to you while you're reading, don't be shy about dropping me a line.

Happy weekend everyone.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>Day 2<span>

**_Two messages define Shepard's day_**

Time, it's said, passes slowest when you want it to pass quickly. Get your hands on something hot, and a second will feel like an hour. Get your hands on some_one_ hot though, and an hour feels like a second. In the Captain's cabin aboard the Normandy, Ami Shepard was having one of those 'hands on some**thing** hot' moments. Hypothetically speaking at least. It'd been two days since she left the Citadel, and for the love of all that's holy it felt like two _years_.

She was sat at her private terminal now, a pile of data pads five tall on her desk to her left, and a mug of coffee on her right. Neither of these things had her attention though. She was looking at the little makeshift calendar in the lower right corner of the screen. It was eight boxes wide, and the first two were each home to a little 'X'. One for each day she'd been out on the job.

Touching her fingers to the haptic interface, she moved the cursor over box number three and circled it longingly before glancing at the clock.

[14:05:26] it read..

..which meant it was much too early to even _consider_ crossing off that third box.

There were still six days until the Normandy was due back at the Citadel.

Six whole days until she would see Thane again.

..

Not that she was counting or anything.

With a vaguely disgruntled grumble she abandoned the calendar, raked her fingers through her hair and fanned the data pads out in a half circle on her desk, glancing across them as she gave her jaw an absent itch. When she felt the still faintly dry skin beneath her fingers, she couldn't help but grin.

He was inescapable, it seemed.

The morning after her meeting with Thane, she'd woken up covered in blotches of prickly heat. Anywhere he'd touched her had broken out in the stuff. There were spots on her brow..her cheeks..on her jaw and throat..between her fingers..along her forearms.._Everywhere_!

She'd cursed herself black and blue for not thinking to use the creams Mordin had left for her, but let herself off the hook when she realised, after a frantic search of her quarters, that the Alliance had kindly disposed of the stuff in her absence. Luckily, after a mortally embarrassed trip to Dr Chakwas and a well-known white lie..'It's psoriasis doc, I promise'..she'd managed to procure something to calm her skin down, and while it wasn't nearly as effective as Mordin's ointments, it did the job. She was barely red at all now and the itching had died right down, though she hoped that it'd be cleared up entirely by the time she saw Thane again. She'd never lie to him, but if she could omit information that would cause him to worry, she would.

Shaking off her contemplations, Ami edged her seat over a little so she was level with the data pads she was working on, and set about syncing them so the feeds they were showing her ran in tandem. Reports of Reaper activity across the five sectors of the galaxy - Inner Council Space; Outer Council Space; Earth Alliance Space; the Attican Traverse and the Terminus Systems - scrolled down as they were updated.

Most of the data were things like casualty reports, Reaper sightings and observations by key eyewitnesses. Anything that might allow her to get a feel for how things were progressing. Of how the Reapers were conducting their invasion. She sought patterns, searching the details for the logic that underpinned them. If she could see that..perhaps the enemy would seem less like an iron fist that crushed all in its way, and more like a real foe. One that could be defeated through tactics and martial strength.

It was a long shot, sure, but she was a soldier to the bone. She had to do _something_.

Looking at the data available at present, the trouble seemed more or less confined to the southern sectors of the galaxy. There were outlying blips here and there, but Earth and Palaven were, as yet, the only homeworlds to have been hit.

As the numbers ran, Ami sat her chin in her hand and let her mind work over what she knew. What fleets the Alliance had left had scattered after the assault on Arcturus, but they were in contact and, despite the losses, were at acceptable strength. That said her mother, the newly promoted Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard, had contacted her recently expressing concern about the way the war was playing out.

'It's not the trenches that're bothering me' she'd written, 'it's the boardroom.'

The fact that the message was cryptic didn't bother her. They had their own way of writing back and forth when either or both of them was on active duty and couldn't give specifics. But expressing concern about the 'boardroom'..the Brass..High Command..that was new. No one wanted to be heard speaking doubtfully about the Alliance's ability to handle the war. Doubts though were not in and of themselves a weakness, and they weren't unique to the elder of the Shepard women either. Ami herself had raging doubts which, if she thought about it, could be alluded to as an issue with 'the boardroom' too.

Bluntly speaking, she didn't think all the faith High Command had in the Crucible was warranted. She'd been ordered to go along with the thing's construction, and she was, but it brought her back right up to think that the fate of the entire galaxy was seemingly resting, not on its tactical and military strength, but on a slip of data found by an Asari who was looking for it in a Prothean archive on Mars.

It was too damn easy.

Too convenient.

But she was a soldier. If her superiors didn't ask, she couldn't say.

..Or..could she..?

Her mother had sent her a missive expressing her concerns after all. If that wasn't a request for an opinion from a superior, nothing was. She'd need to be discrete of course, just like Hannah had been, but the fact that she had sent her a message at all hinted at the Alliance's lines being secure enough to make the threat of having her arse chapped for insubordination minimal.

Leaving the array of pads alone for a moment, she shuffled her chair back over to her terminal and opened a new window. She then logged into her mail account, opened a new message page and began piecing together what she wanted to say.

What she wrote, and _what her mother would read it as_, were entirely different.

..

..

To: [shepardHG.6742]

Subject: Re: How's the weather?

* * *

><p>Senior, good to hear from you.

_Hi mum. I got your message._

..

The trenches are hot, but we're moving on through.

_We've been on the frontline, but we're not in immediate danger._

Got a call from a man about a thing.

_We're doing routine pick-up-and-drop missions at the moment._

Lots of fire in the south of the disc.

_The southern areas of the galaxy are getting hit hard._

..

The ornament on the boardroom table is ugly as all hell.

_I'm worried about what High Command is planning/talking about/doing._

It needs replacing with a new one.

_I think we need a new plan._

Want to go shopping?

_I want to talk to you about the new plan I think we need._

Money's tight, but a little browsing never hurt anyone.

_I haven't got a blind clue what this new plan should be yet._

..

Make my coffee black. Two mugs.

_When we next meet, I'll need a strong drink and a long talk._

_.._

Best regards,

_I love you._

..

Junior.

_Amial./_

* * *

><p>After a quick read-through to check that the phrases she'd used were as accurate as possible, Ami clicked the [Send] button and closed the page. She doubted anything would come of sharing her concerns, but she felt a hint better having done so. At least she and her mother were on the same page now.<p>

Happy with her progress thus far, she scooted her chair back towards the data pads and made a quick inventory of the numbers. Nothing much seemed to have changed in the few minutes she'd been occupied. Palaven was still haemorrhaging lives by the minute and Earth was just as bad off. No real activity had been reported in the northern sectors yet, but it was early days.

She reached to pick up a couple of the pads then, but stopped short when her terminal blipped at the receipt of a new message.

_Huh_, she thought, _either I caught mum just right or.._

With a quick shuffle she was back where she'd been moments before, her fingers poised over the haptic interface. A couple of clicks took her to her inbox and she glanced at the new message, only to have her stomach practically fall through the floor when she saw its subject.

[A Message Incoming] it read.

Even though the sender's address had been redacted, she knew by the way those words had been written that it was from Thane. He was empathic to how paranoid she was about being misled by an imposter masquerading as someone she cared for, and made a habit of leaving traces of himself within the notes he wrote to her to make sure she knew they were genuine. Sneaking his favourite contraction of her first name into the title was but one of the multitude of increasingly inventive ways through which he reached out to her in his writing.

Muffling a squeak she'd have sworn blind didn't come from her, she opened the message, scooting closer to the screen as she did. As soon as she read the first word, imperfect memory be damned, she could almost hear him reading right along with her.

..

/Siha,

.._She looks at me, her eyes calm, back straight. 'We're back in eight days' she says, 'and if, by then, you've sent your medical files over to Chakwas so she knows what to do with you when you arrive, and if your doctors here clear you to travel, you're as good as conscripted.'_..

It is done.

I await you.

Count with me. Six days now.

- Thane/

..

After she'd read and re-read the message, Ami allowed herself a couple of minutes of utter and complete uselessness. She simply sat, absorbing every word and digesting the information the note contained while grinning so widely her jaw ached. Little things in it warmed her right through, and were given special and repeated attention.

The use of Siha of course..

How he had written a memory into the text, one she remembered almost as clearly as he did, in just the same way he had during their first tour together..Gods bless him and his attentiveness to gentling her paranoia..

He was counting the days, just like she was..Six to go..

And the fact that he'd been cleared and sent his files to Chakwas..well..

A laugh jogged itself loose as Ami sat back in her chair, shaking her head slowly and rubbing her hands lightly over her face.

He'd actually done it.

Was actually coming.

Suddenly things felt just a hint more serious. She'd need to bring Dr Chakwas up to speed on all of this sharpish.

When she'd visited her yesterday morning in search of an antidote to her skin issues, she'd been careful not to openly acknowledge that the problem had been caused by Thane. The only nod she gave to him was calling it 'psoriasis', which was her codename for Drell-caused itching of all kinds, and she only did that so the doctor didn't give her something that could inadvertently make the reaction worse. Outside of this though, she hadn't even mentioned having seen Thane, let alone spoken of how well he was or of his want to rejoin the Normandy.

There were a couple of reasons for this.

The one she would have given off the cuff if asked was that she just didn't want to get her hopes up, or get Chakwas's hopes up for that matter, about the possibility of her mate coming aboard. She knew the woman cared for him in her own way, and knew as well that she'd be awful disappointed if a second opinion from Huerta debarred him from travelling with them once more.

Keeping it to herself had been hard. She'd even become a little short with her when she tried to examine the blotches on her face more closely, but she'd reined herself in, and had escaped with a pot of skin cream and her composure intact.

Mostly.

And that 'mostly'..that little wobble she'd had which made her snap at the doc, added to the fact that she hadn't so much _wanted _to leave as soon as the pot hit her fingers, but **NEEDED** to if she was going to keep it together.. that was the second reason.

The real one.

When she'd returned to the ship after seeing Thane, she'd been torn. On the one hand, it was all she could do not to scream 'HE'S CURED!' at the top of her lungs, telling everyone who was close enough to listen of the miracle she'd witnessed. Hell, if it'd been anything else, any other wonderful piece of news, the entire Citadel would've been lit up in neon lights as she shared it. People would have been recruited for a night of making merry, Garrus would have summarily drunk her under the table, and the next morning all concerned would've conceded that the hangovers were well worth it and moved on.

But this?

This was so _damn _personal to her that the neon lights and hangovers treatment wasn't even applicable. It wasn't something she could celebrate with booze and then move on from. There _was_ no moving on from it. It's effect was too wide-ranging to escape. All of a sudden, the stress that'd been building for a year was gone..the worry was gone..the months of preparing to lose Thane while still remaining a functional asset in the war she knew was coming were made useless, because now she wouldn't be losing him at all. And that feeling..that.._freedom_..

It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before.

Emotionally speaking, she'd gone nova in reverse. The explosion came when Thane told her he wasn't dying. And now she was quiet..well..quieter..self-contained but ready to explode anew. She'd been reset in a sense. To follow the nova analogy, she became a brown dwarf, fizzling away to herself but primed to go if the circumstances were right. And the circumstances would have been right if she'd screamed, hollered, strung up lights and got lashed with Garrus. She'd have ended-up either going to pieces every second sentence, weeping pathetically into her drink, or snapping when the volley of well-meant questions she'd have received but wasn't ready for overwhelmed her.

And that was unacceptable behaviour for a woman in her position.

The people here, especially those who considered her a friend and confidant, needed her to be strong for them. To be a unifying force, and a person upon whom they could lay their worries. None of them would benefit from seeing her as the emotionally spent wreck that, beneath the mask of 'Shepard', she actually was. Below the ever-ready surface..past Shepard..past Ami even..inside, where no one but Thane was allowed..she was the wreckage left by three years of constant conflict and an acute, year long period of Keprals-brought fear and grief. The wreckage of a person who had functioned out of duty and necessity, and who now, in light of the most unexpected and beautiful circumstances, could begin to rebuild herself.

So she hadn't strung up lights, run down to the battery and petrified her Turian best friend by balling on his shoulder. She hadn't run down to Chakwas, raided her private reserves and spent the night intermittently crying with relief and drinking deep from the Serrice bottle. She'd given herself what she knew she needed instead.

Time to reflect and settle in the only place she felt comfortable doing those things. Her quarters.

After double-timing it through the CIC to minimise the risk of being stopped and engaged at a time when she really hadn't the will to deal with it, she'd locked the door between her rooms and the rest of the world, and let herself weep again while she went through her evening routine. The tears that came were many but gentle, and she set about soothing them by putting her mind to a project. Though she could exercise enough restraint to keep the news from the crew until she was ready to tell them, she needed to talk to _someone_ about it. And who better, she'd thought as she settled on the couch and turned her Omni-tool's camera on herself, than Thane.

The recording would be like a memory, recounted for him by her as she would were she a Drell.

She used the first take, brief lapse into joyful weeping and all, and soon enough had the first memory she could ever rightly share with him in this most personal manner saved onto a holo-disc. It would wait on her shelf for him, she decided.

They'd watch it together.

Now though, presently, as she sat at her terminal a day after she'd visited the doctor and squirrelled herself away to spare the crew her intermittent lapses into joy-brought-uselessness, she felt settled. Ready. She could handle questions, hell, she had a list she wanted to ask herself, and she needed Chakwas's help in making sure the Normandy could properly accommodate her beau.

With that in mind, she made for the elevator.

* * *

><p>The trip between decks 1 and 3 was as quick and uneventful as it ever had been, and Shepard strode through the doors of the medical bay to find the good doctor staring with utter perplexity at her private terminal. When her arrival wasn't noted immediately, she spoke up.<p>

"Doctor?"

The silver haired woman gave a bit of a start at hearing her voice. "Oh, Commander.." she greeted, glancing around at her before sitting back in her chair heavily. "I'm sorry, I..just find myself at a bit of a loss." She gave a soft laugh, flicking a finger towards the screen."Huerta Memorial Hospital have sent over a transfer notice concerning Sere Krios..along with his medical files..but that can't be right. I mean he's.." Her words petered into bewildered silence, the thought they'd carried flitting away as she scrolled over the page she had on-screen. The sound of rubber chair-feet being dragged across the floor brought her attention back to Shepard, and she watched as her guest drew a seat up beside her and settled on it gingerly.

She and the Commander had years enough behind them now that she considered them friends, and they'd grown all the closer when Thane's health declined. She'd found her in here nightly with him, doing her best to keep him comfortable, and had seen more than a couple of tears shed when she thought she was alone. It had broken her heart to see, and this was one of a variety of reasons why she was so very _wary_ of this transfer notice. She had no intention of rubber-stamping a course of action which would undoubtedly cause all concerned a great deal of distress in the long-run.

Another reason for wariness was that, procedurally speaking, her receiving the transfer notice at all was incorrect given the severity of Sere Krios's illness. Protocol dictates that, unless the patient is a walk-on case - that is, more-or-less fit for action and therefore eligible for immediate deployment - a period of correspondence between his primary doctor and those into whose care he is being transferred is necessary, **PRIOR** to the transfer documents being sent along, to make sure the latter are fully informed about the case.

Chakwas was sure, given how ill he had been when last she saw him, that Sere Krios would _not_ be a walk-on case were he to be transferred, but she had heard not a whisper prior to receiving the almost 200 pages-worth of information she was currently puzzling over, and therefore had no context to help her piece together what was going on.

Now had this happened in isolation, she would have been comfortable writing the entire episode off as a computing error. They happen easily enough, and she had fallen victim to them in the past on a number of occasions. But having seen the Commander yesterday morning, and having recognised the psoriasis-that-wasn't-actually-psoriasis on her jaw, Chakwas was forced into considering an uncomfortable, though highly unlikely, possibility.

It was no secret between them that Shepard had been to see Thane when last they docked at the Citadel. That visit would have provided her with ample opportunities to request that he be transferred..but in view of the likely state of the man's health, given how much time had passed and his illness trajectory..

Could she really have thought that bringing him here was workable? Could his doctors?

Bemused, Chakwas watched her guest arrange herself comfortably in her chair, her elbows coming to rest on her knees, sharp eyes regarding her curiously.

_She wouldn't have requested..would she? No. Surely not. And even if she did, the paper-trail is still missing. It must be a mistake_. _A blip in their system_._. ..__A very opportune blip..but still a blip._

"Have you looked into the files they sent over yet?" Shepard asked, breaking the doctor from her contemplations. She peered at the screen before meeting her eyes again, the faintest hint of a cock-eyed grin on her lips.

"Only the notice itself and the authorisation page so far" Chakwas explained. "Honestly, I think there's been a mistake, and I don't want to poke around in a patient's file when I'm not sure it should have even come to my desk at all. For all I was once, I'm no-longer Sere Krios's doctor, so I've no right to this information unless the transfer request turns out to be genuine." As she spoke, she watched the Commander's face, perturbed by how nonchalant she seemed about something so unexpected.

There was no surprise in her expression.

No unease.

Just that little almost-grin and her usual attentive gaze.

Suddenly, the thought that she had requested the transfer personally didn't seem so far-fetched, paper-trail or no. The woman had a reputation after-all. Perhaps the very fact that 'The' Commander Shepard made a specific request of them had made one of Sere Krios's doctors a little woozy.

Her curiosity piqued, she couldn't not pursue the issue.

"I'll send a formal query in a moment but..forgive me Commander, I have to ask" she brooked carefully, trying her best not to come across like a scolding parent in speaking to her infinitely capable CO. "When you saw Thane on the Citadel during our last stop-over..did you request that he be transferred to the Normandy?"

"No" Shepard replied, her tone a hint clipped but otherwise entirely normal, "I accepted his offer to come along, on the condition that his doctors clear him to travel."

Chakwas balked.

.._Well..there went blip-theory_..

"But Commander" she began, a reflexive splutter of disbelief escaping as she spoke, "isn't he..?"

She left the question unfinished, unwilling to push Shepard further in light of what occurred the last time she had tried to make light of her meeting with Sere Krios. The number of times the woman had been afflicted by 'psoriasis' during their last tour together was in double figures, and she'd been thinking to tease her about it jovially when she became prickly and high-tailed it without looking back.

Left alone suddenly, Chakwas had felt the same dread she once did when Thane's health had declined make itself at home in her gut, and had come to the unhappy conclusion that the poor man's time must be short if the Commander had to outright _leave the room_ to escape even a passing mention of him. This thought was only reinforced by how, over the course of the day, Shepard had made herself scarce about the ship. A glimpse of her moving between the CIC and the elevator was about the limit of what the crew saw of her yesterday, outside of brief and perfunctory visits to the mess to pick up a meal she then took up to her quarters to eat alone.

To anyone who hadn't known the Commander during Thane's period of severe illness, this scarcity of face-time wouldn't have been seen as odd. It was common for Shepard to disappear into her work these days, what with the war and the various commitments she had to her numerous affiliates. For Chakwas though, who had known her when things had begun to look grim, utter silence was odd. While the woman was too private a person to share her emotional burdens with her, she knew Shepard would have grilled Thane's doctors at Huerta for every scrap of information they had, and that she'd have talked about it with her here when she got back to see if there was anything better that could be done for him. Being proactive like that was her coping mechanism. But there had been nothing.

No talk of expected life spans..

No talk of palliation..

These things had been common topics between she and the Commander when Thane was aboard the Normandy, and her lack of engagement with them leant credence to conclusion that his battle was coming to an end.

Now though, sitting by her and watching her face, the unease Chakwas felt in stepping on such tender ground was peppered with confusion. Nothing of this entire scenario..not Shepard's demeanour..not her accepting Sere Krios's offer to travel with her..not his doctors clearing him to do so..and not the lack of communications between herself and those doctors prior to today..made any sense unless the man was a walk-on case, but that..

The chances of that being the case were _infinitesimally_ small at best..

..

Unless there was more to this than she rightly knew.

Understandably perplexed, she put that thought to voice in a question, "Have I missed something ma'm?" hoping the Commander might shed some light on the confusing muddle she was faced with.

It took Shepard a moment to compose her answer, her throat becoming a hint tight at the prospect of nudging her counterpart towards the truth after a day or so of pointedly keeping it to herself to keep from falling to pieces. She had one ready though..or better said, she had a question ready that would make the answer clear. Doctor Chakwas had been as involved in Thane's care as Professor Solus had been before they left for the Citadel, and had sat in on all of the brainstorming sessions the Professor held as he planned out how to tackle what he came to call the 'Keprals Problem'. Even though her confusion about the transfer notice made it clear that she was out of the loop regarding his progress, she'd known precisely what was planned, and how Mordin wanted to go about doing it. And with that knowledge, the conclusion she'd come to in response to the very particular question Shepard had in mind was foregone.

After a breath and a quick clearing of the throat she asked, "You remember what Mordin talked about doing with those tissue samples he took from me and Thane?"

..

True to form..that was all it took.

Chakwas shot up in her seat, grasping Shepard's forearms. "He _didn't_" she pressed with palpable shock, watching the Commander's grin become just-this-side-of-collected as she nodded towards the terminal.

"I don't know how those files are written" she mustered, giving her friend's arms a quick squeeze, "but if there's a general overview in the beginning or something, lets give it a look.."

The doctor needed no further telling. She opened the medical files she had shied from moments earlier and perused the opening statements quickly, reading out the details that struck her as she went. "..Cloned lungs transplanted.. ..Implementation of retrovirus to eradicate.. ..Seven months of excellent progress.. ..Immune system fully functional, barring use of immunosuppressant formula which.. ..Terminal prognosis ret-..I **_beg_** your pardon?"

She stopped suddenly, a hand flailing to grasp Shepard's arm again and tug her closer. "Commander **LOOK**!" she drew, her breath short with excitement as she re-read that last detail.

"Terminal prognosis _retracted_! He's..he's.."

A glance at her guest threw her for a second or two. Here was the same woman who, just over a year back, had sat in this very room and wept over the selfsame Drell this report concerned, and now, hearing those words..words that, a year ago, she'd have literally _killed_ to hear..she simply smiled.

It was a _blinding_ smile, granted, but..

..

The Commander's expression warmed all the further as the doctor goggled at her, her eyes misting slightly as she began to chuckle..

And with that, the credit finally dropped.

"You _knew_ didn't you, you sneaky creature!" Chakwas laughed as realisation dawned, forgetting herself and all propriety for a moment as she stood, bustling Shepard to her feet and embracing her tightly.

"Ohh my dear, congratulations!" she enthused, feeling her return the embrace for a moment or two before she pulled gently away, putting enough distance between them to speak without being muffled by either hair or shoulder.

"Thanks.." Shepard managed, her smile helpless. "I did know, yeah.. ..Didn't mean to keep it from you, it's just.. ..It's hard enough to set right in my own head, let alone explain it to others just yet. That, and I didn't know if he'd be cleared or not. I'd have told you either way, but.." She blew a soft breath through her lips, calming herself down a little.

"I just needed some time..and I wanted to see your face when you found out yourself."

With a fond chuckle, Chakwas gave her shoulders a squeeze before letting her settle again. "I'd wager yours was a picture" she said kindly, making for her private reserves and procuring a bottle of Serrice and two tumblers.

News like this _deserved, _no,_ demanded_ Serrice Ice Brandy.

"You'd win that bet" Shepard agreed, watching as her friend settled in her seat, sat the tumblers on her desk and, with a practiced tilt, decanted no more than two fingers of liquor into each glass through the bottle's fluted tip. She took hers up as soon as it was ready, touching it lightly to the doctor's in a toast to Thane's returning health before broaching the topic she'd come down here to discuss.

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about this doc.." she said, gesturing to the monitor and elaborating a little at her counterpart's bemused look. "Thane dropped me a line a few minutes back to let me know the file had been sent."

"Ahhh.." Chakwas chuckled, taking a sip of her brandy. "I thought your arrival was a little opportune."

Shepard huffed with mock indignation. "Don't knock the punctuality" she said, "I've got a bit of a vested interest in this you know."

"Ohh I know dear" the doctor grinned as she replied, "Now, you were saying?"

Glad to be back on track, Shepard collected her thoughts. "I wanted to ask you if, going on the report, you think Thane's medical needs could be met aboard the Normandy. I know you haven't gone through it yet" she added quickly when her friend's brows rose, "but when you have, could you keep me in the loop about whether or not it'd be alright to have him here?"

"Of course" Chakwas nodded, "though, preliminarily speaking, since he's been cleared to travel I can't see there being any problems. In fact.." she turned to the screen quickly, searching for a specific bit of information.

"I'm curious about the medication he's taking. As long as we can house it here, he should be fine." She highlighted the names of the medications once they had been located amid the text, and ran a quick extranet search just to make doubly sure that her knowledge of them was correct.

"Yes..that should be no problem. We've the facilities to house them, and unless something egregious turns up in here" she gave a nod towards the report and turned back to the Commander, "which I sincerely doubt it will, we'll need to start planning a welcome home party quite soon..don't you think?"

Shepard had to chuckle at that. "Much as I'm sure he'd appreciate the sentiment.." she drew, smirking as Chakwas rolled her eyes fondly.

"He'd leave within five minutes, wouldn't he" she chortled, knowing the man and his habits too well to conclude otherwise. It wasn't that he was antisocial..he just felt distinctly uncomfortable with crowds. The Commander gave a quick nod before draining her glass.

"Without a doubt" she said, sitting the now empty vessel down on Chakwas's table. She held the doctor's gaze a moment before asking, "Hypothetically speaking.."

"..Yes.."

"If everything's fine and Thane can come aboard, can you think of anything we could do to accommodate him better? When I saw him at Huerta his room was just _perfect_. It must've been 29°C in there, and dry as a bone.."

"Hmm.." Chakwas mused, finishing her brandy and sitting her glass by Shepard's. "There is the Life Support plant, but..perhaps..there're other things we could..Hold on a minute.." She edged back from the desk slightly, pulling out a deep file draw and fishing through it carefully.

"I saved this lot" she explained, giving the draw a pat, "from the Alliance's refit teams when they mowed through and upgraded us. It's old files mostly. Bric-a-brac and..a _ha_! There we are.." She plucked two glossy magazines from between a pair of manila folders and handed them to Shepard.

"What's this now?" the Commander asked, flipping through the pages lightly without opening either volume. Actual, honest-to-goodness, paper-made publications were such a rarity nowadays that finding any was a treat for her. Even glossy things like these were wonderful to fidget with.

"It's called Laksha" Chakwas explained, kicking the draw closed and leaning a little so she could point to various areas on the front page. "It's a publication that's usually printed for Drell, but as you can see.." she indicated a couple of the bits of text describing what was contained in the issue that were clearly written in English, "it can be translated into almost anything. When Sere Krios came aboard, I needed to learn more about his people so I could attend to his needs properly. Hence, my subscription."

Biting back a thoroughly unhelpful quip about the good doctor's interest in glossy Drellish publications, Shepard opened the thicker of the two volumes and took a look at the contents page. To her surprise, outside of a little section on relationships written by someone called 'Kehksi', most of the topics covered were quite practical. Some of those that leapt out at her read,

_'The perfect diet for the travelling Drell.'_

_'Restaurant reviews: Kahje's most famous delicacies recreated on the Citadel.'_

_'Sloughing brushes: A complete guide to picking the right set for your circumstances.'_

And her personal favourite,

_'Surviving the molt: How the right sand heater can save you a world of bother.'_

She didn't rightly know what a 'molt' was in Drellish terms, but if it needed 'surviving' it must be important.

Passing the first volume off to Chakwas, she looked at the second and, for a brief and thoroughly irrational moment, wanted to hurl the thing out the door. This one, it seemed, was a special edition. A supplement entitled, 'Laksha: Life with Keprals Syndrome'. The title was emblazoned across the top third of the page, white lettering on a purple background, and by the look of its corners, it'd been well read.

_Why shouldn't it have been?_ she thought, tamping down the swell of trepidation the title brought, _It must've been useful when Thane went critical. Every little helps, right?_

As she looked down at it she realised that, much as she didn't want to think about it, the very existence of this little magazine meant that Keprals was not only the thing that almost lost her the man she loved, but also a society-wide problem. She had known this in the abstract of course, Thane having told her that his condition was common, but she'd never figured out quite how common 'common' was. To warrant its own publication, she surmised, the disease must effect something like the same proportion of Drell that cancer once did with humans.

As that knowledge settled in her mind, she felt the beginnings of a stress-induced cold sweat coming on.

_One in three_..she thought.._One in five if you're lucky_..

_And, barring Thane, it's fucking terminal.._

_Good **Christ**..they're dying out.._

Sensing the Commander's unease, Chakwas leant against her shoulder gently and spoke up. "The only pages in there you want are the ones with the corners folded over. The topics are mundane. Breathing exercises. Stretches. And the rest..Well, the rest isn't necessary any more, is it.." she said encouragingly, letting Shepard slip the volume beneath the one she was already holding so it was out of sight.

She understood.

Wanting to distance oneself from something that caused immense pain was natural. With news of Sere Krios's recovery still being so fresh for her, it wasn't a great leap of logic to make that she was still coming to terms with it being fact at all.

"Not for Thane at least" Shepard said, coming back to herself after that moment's struggle with remembered dread. Giving the doctor a grateful smile, she rubbed her hands on her trousers and put her proactive hat back on. "How 'bout..I take the thick one here.." she plucked gently at the first volume, snagging it as Chakwas tossed the offensive second one back into her draw, "and you tell me about some of the things I need to be looking for."

"A wise plan, ma'm" Chakwas replied, snatching up one of the pens sitting in the cup by her terminal and scrounging a piece of paper from her well-loved notepad. Old fashioned as the habit may be, she had always found taking notes to be more productive when using actual stationary as opposed to a data pad, and kept a small stash of pens and note paper for just that purpose. She handed both to Shepard as she thought up her list, knowing the Commander would appreciate using her hands so soon after taking a slightly morose turn.

"Well let me see.." she began while Shepard flattened the paper over the magazine's hard cover and set the pen to it so she could take notes, "We'll need to think outside of Sere Krios's immediate medical needs. I can see to those here in the medical bay." She paused a moment, watching a neat little '1' appear on the paper.

"Let's start with his diet" she said. "I know Laksha has extensive sections on Drellish nutrition. As I recall, the Drell are more partial to protein than we are.."

* * *

><p>After a half-hour of note taking Shepard and Chakwas concluded their putting-our-heads-together session, and agreed to reconvene once the doctor had combed through Thane's medical file and come to a decision regarding his rejoining the Normandy. It was a preliminary 'Yes', but she just wanted to make sure.<p>

When she got back to her quarters, Ami put her new reading material down on her desk, her list taking pride of place atop it as she adjourned for a quick shower before getting back to work. It read as follows.

_1) Diet - Omnivorous, but protein important._

_2) Hot, dry atmosphere needed. 27 - 31°C comfortable range for Drell._

_3) Bathing habits? Hot water = steam. Steam is **BAD**. Sand heaters? (see Laksha pg. 24)_

_4) **MUST** do something about my shower. Too steamy. New vent?_

_5) Sand? For bathing? (see Laksha pg. 30 for interesting ad.)_

_6) Shedding? (see Laksha pg. 26)_

_7) Vitamin supplements necessary - rations/purely 'human' diet not sufficient._

_8) **SKIN CREAM!**_

_9) Clothing? Light shirts seem preferable. Easy on the chest. Will need his size :-)_

_10) Exercise/physical therapy_

_a) Physical not a problem_

_b) 'Vocal' exercises - Not sure on this. Check Laksha. Failing that, check extranet._

_11) Website for magazine - Laksha /a/ Kahje - easttown . net_

_12) Found shop on Citadel owned by Laksha's publisher. A health store. Interspecies, or so the ad says. Will visit on next trip to Citadel. 'Bio-wares Interspecies Health Store'_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: Welcome all to chapter 5. Thank you again for all the support and kind words. Knowing the story is being well received/stirring thoughts is a massive inspiration to write more. As was the case with chapter 2, in thanks for your support and the time you take in reviewing my work, this chapter runs _long_.

Now, I've had a bit of a think about all of the ways ME3 tried to make gamers feel part of the action, and one of those was the data pad app for the iPhone/iPad etc. That app, for anyone who isn't sure, lets your receive messages from certain of the people you meet, Thane included, once you reach certain points in the game. Why, thought I, can't there be a messaging service akin to that in-game? So Shepard can keep in touch with people he/she is far away from while he/she's out protecting the galaxy. Heck, soldiers in the field today can touch base..so there must be a way, in the 2180's, for them to do it too.

Oh! Before I forget. There's a little reference to a piece of music I adore in this chapter. If you catch it, cookies and congratulations to you.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G_

* * *

><p><span>Day 6<span>

**_A comm. program makes the day of two people who work has forced apart_**

Telling a person convincingly that Thane Krios was 'well read' would take a skill in understatement that the Drell himself could only aspire to. Through his entire working life, he had quite literally absorbed the written word where ever he could find it. Volume upon volume fell to his need to exercise his mind, pass the hours, days, or weeks between jobs, or distract himself from his admitted propensity to dwell on things too deeply.

He read on language, and had picked up three, besides his native Drellish, in the process. On art and culture, technology, religion, philosophy, history, and even gastronomy; regardless of the fact that it was something he would freely admit to having precious little skill in.

Perhaps his favourite genres though were literature, and poetry. His tastes here were broad and deep, and he liked to think that, in his memories, he had a personal library that was filled to the rafters with work after work that he could browse at his leisure.

And browse he did. Daily in fact.

Unfortunately though, the subjects which drew him in the deepest were also those that caused him to dwell on things the most.. ..which made _escaping_ dwelling by disappearing into his favourite tomes..problematic. There was simply so much in life that had been beautifully rendered by one poet or other..one great writer or other..that on a given day Thane found himself recalling passages that complimented things he had seen, done, or felt..and today had been no different.

On this, the sixth day of eight he had to spend apart from his Siha, he couldn't help but recall a pair of choice quotations from two of Earth's literary masters. They wrote of feelings and situations much like his.

..

'Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.'

..

'Days of absence, sad and dreary,

Clothed in sorrow's dark array,

Days of absence, I am weary;

She I love is far away'

..

It hadn't helped him to do it. To linger.

He still missed her keenly, and would until she returned to him.

But now, as he sat at his table, nursing a cup of fresh tea in the blind-dimmed light of his hospital room, he found himself contemplating something that might ease the pain of being apart from her a bit. It was neither self-made calendar, clock or news feed; not a message just received, or one he had composed and was considering sending. What had him enthralled was one of the scant few short-cuts that peppered his Omni-tool's display. It presented itself as the Systems Alliance logo, Earth between high silver arches, and had embossed across it the letters AICS, which at full stretch stood for the 'Alliance Instant Communication Service'.

The AICS is a program that provides the families of soldiers out on active duty with a secure method of contacting their loved ones in real-time, via instant text-based messages and video-link. It comes in two versions - the civilian one, which is widely available through official channels; and the soldiers' one, which every Alliance marine has access to.

It works in much the same way a phone connection does. Civilian users enter the unique username and password that the soldier they want to get into contact with provides for them.. ..much as they would their phone number.. ..and the program matches that data to the account of the soldier to whom it is registered, then connects the civilian user to them if they're available to be contacted.

The soldiers' side of things is a hint more restrictive. Users log into the system using their military ID and personal password, but while they can appear available for contact from the outside world, tightened security protocols ensure that they can't initiate that contact. They can accept incoming calls, so to speak, but not make calls of their own.

Now Thane had been aware of the AICS for some time, Ami herself having introduced him to it and installed the civilian version on his Omni-tool, but using it had never entered his mind before now. It simply hadn't been practical during the time they were apart. He had been in turns too sick to make contacting her possible, and unable to reach her at all due to the unexpected blanket-ban on comms during her confinement.

Blissfully though, their circumstances were different now..getting in touch was feasible..and it was this fact, coupled with a morning in the 'library' and a decidedly spectacular bit of good timing, that brought thoughts of using the program to the forefront his mind.

The entirely accidental and abundantly well-timed moment had occurred not twenty minutes ago. He'd been enjoying his afternoon walk and had decided, on his way through a particularly light and airy corridor, to peek into his doctor's office and wish the man good day. They had struck up something of a friendship during his time in the hospital, and to Thane's mind, spending ten minutes chatting with an acquaintance about nothing in particular was infinitely preferable to slinking back to his room to dwell on how he missed his mate.

His plan set, he'd made tracks to the right door and had peeped inside, only to find the gentleman he sought engaged in a conference call with none other than Karin Chakwas. Seeing her there, her image oddly hued by the faint orange tinge of the terminal's screen, had brought a memory to him..

-_My Siha's hands are warm in mine as she speaks, her voice affectionate and words..cautious. 'I know we've got Dr Chakwas on-board, and I know she knows your case..'_-

..and while he'd ducked away before either participant noticed his presence, that one look and the memory that came with it was all it had taken for him to draw a couple of closely related conclusions. First and most importantly, the Normandy was safe. It couldn't not be if Dr Chakwas was able to contact Huerta. By extension therefore, Ami must also be safe. Had she not been, the doctor wouldn't be caught up in communing with other medical professionals, she'd be working to secure the situation and assist her.

He could rest a little easier with this in mind.

And secondly, since the Normandy was obviously within range of the comm buoy network, it would be possible for him to contact his love in a similar manner to that via which the doctors conversed.

Namely, through the AICS.

It was a compelling thought, make no mistake..but it was also something he had never done before..never used before..It was undeniably _new.._and new things always took a little while to make it through the numerous mental checks and balances he had in place before they became 'safe' in his mind.

After a careful sip from his mug, Thane set it aside and delicately extricated his hand and forearm from his Omni-tool's grasp. He then sat the device upon the surface before him, maximised its user-interface panel and tilted it up so he could look at it as he would the screen of a terminal. Once it was positioned to his liking, he touched the pads of his fused fingers to the haptic interface, and brought the cursor to the icon he was puzzling over.

Sitting back then, he regarded it cautiously.

..

..

No matter how he sliced it, he was in two minds.

On the one hand, since the program was Alliance-standard, it would be as secure and stable as it was possible for such a thing to be. He wouldn't need to purchase bandwidth from a third-party to be able to use it, and was confident that he wouldn't be opening his hardware up to the ungodly number of viruses that littered the extranet by doing so.

He knew too that the Normandy's resident AI, were she still present after the extensive refits the Alliance must have commissioned when the ship was dry-docked, would be aware of the communication and would seek to safeguard it from prying eyes. She had always shown herself to be loyal to Ami, and wouldn't allow her private correspondence to be infiltrated if she was present to stop it.

..But on the other..

Losing his wife to his own inattention had lent him a distinctly paranoid fixation with ensuring his mate's safety, and he knew too well how men who were paid to hunt others could use even the slightest ripple in the proverbial pond to find their prey. He had done the same thing himself when he was tracking his marks, and while none of them had been part of the Alliance military.. ..few had been anything like as formidable as his Siha.. ..and he had never used the AICS to track them.. ..the disquiet in his mind wouldn't abate.

The possibility for malfeasance was there.

He was aware of it.

As such, the program and the course of action he was considering would need risk assessing to his rather particular standards before he'd decide either way.

Knowing that the best way to defend oneself was to know the tactics of one's enemy, Thane turned the issue around in his mind and looked at it from a new, though well-worn perspective. That of the person his caution was aimed at protecting his love from. The one he used to be. The prospective hunter.

The assassin.

_Were she my target_, he thought, setting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers before his lips,_ what about this situation could I use to my advantage in fulfilling my contract?_

_How big a ripple would a vidcall from a loved one to my target make in my pond?_

..

Answering this question would take careful thought, but luckily the activity he was engaged in..deconstructing ways in which a tool could be used in planning a hypothetical hit..was nothing he hadn't done before.

To begin, he looked to precedent. In a number of his past assignments, he had spent a great deal of time learning the rhythms of his targets' daily lives so he could better locate the opportune moment to strike, and had used programs like the AICS to assist him. How he utilised them in a given case depended on many things.

Time constraints.

The identity of his mark.

Their travelling habits and character.

All of these things, among countless others, impacted his modus operandi.

He knew, for example, that deception of the kind the AICS would allow..impersonation..misdirection..the gathering of personal information from the source..would be an inappropriate method to use were he pursuing a contract on Amial. She would expect attempts at such things, and would require proof of a caller's identity that could not be disputed before she would engage them in anything like the level of interpersonal communication that would be needed for manipulation.

Using a VI to tap a public line and record the conversations and usage patterns of specific accounts was another possible tactic, but this too encountered issues when applied to the instant case. The AICS was most certainly _not_ a public line. It would be protected from infiltration by a myriad of safety mechanisms, firewalls and monitoring systems, which would make cracking it impracticable in terms of both the resources it would take to accomplish, and the risk of detection.

Added to that, EDI's potential presence would further complicate things. She was the closest thing to hack-proof Thane had yet come across, and her ability to adapt her programming to changing circumstances, not to mention the firewalls she was able to erect, would make gathering data on anyone aboard the Normandy, let alone the _commanding officer_, tantamount to impossible.

_Were I contracted for Ami then, _he thought, _and considering this program as a possible tool_, _I would need to __either pay an information broker for the codes I'd need access it properly, or procure them from elsewhere..Both avenues could be time-consuming..the second especially so.._

_And even if I did that, the possibility of being detected by EDI would be monumental. It would take but a whisper of suspicion and all would be lost._

_.._

_That said, the question remains._ _How big a ripple would a vidcall from a loved one to my target make in my pond?_

_How would I use it?_

_Seeing how doing so would involve a great deal of impracticality in this case, would I at all?_

_I would say not..but.._

Playing devil's advocate to his own paranoia, Thane set aside both EDI's presence and the 'getting into the system' problem, and imagined that the AICS was a public system that he could access and set a VI to work on despite its safeguards. Looking at it this way allowed him to consider the worst case scenario.. ..that his conversation with his mate would be tapped by a malefactor.. ..and led him to consider possible ways in which he, in said malefactor's shoes, might use the data to pursue her.

The first that came to mind was that he could locate the source and destination of the message, and use those to glean a rough idea of the location of his target and the person contacting them. Relating that to his present situation, if a loved one used the program to contact his Siha, he could potentially locate the person who contacted her and use their whereabouts as a means to track her if and when she came to visit them.

This information would be an invaluable lead, no doubt.. ..particularly in view of the fact that locating Ami herself would be infeasible with her being aboard the Normandy nine tenths of the time.. ..but there was a detail which would make using it categorically impossible in practice.

_He_ would be the loved one contacting her with the AICS.

He, the Compact-trained assassin, who was wise to being used in the very manner in question.

The thought of someone actually trying such a thing with him drew a contemptuous chuff from Thane. Private as he may be, he couldn't ignore his trained propensity to know the rhythms of the place he was in and the faces and habits of the people around him. To watch and listen in an effort to make sure that the surface of his pond remained glassy and smooth. That way if something, or someone, was out of the ordinary, he would notice instantly and could follow the ripples back to them.

Because of this, there was no way a prospective assassin would get past him, let alone be able to observe him in order to seek to harm his love. He was simply too proficient, too cagey, and frankly too paranoid for that.

It just **_wouldn't_** happen.

And if they tried, in their haste and foolishness, to use him as bait, or as a hostage to bribe his mate with.. ..more with fool them.

Drawing his thoughts to a conclusion on this methodology's utility, Thane resolved that the potential repercussions its use had on both his and his Siha's safety could easily be countered. She was nigh on unreachable while out on tour, and he would.._deal_..with any suspicious characters who sought him out as a means of getting to her. Secure in that knowledge, he turned his mind to exploring another aspect of the AICS that might provide him, as a hunter, with valuable intel. The _content_ of the conversation itself.

Things said, and not said..

Things done..

Clues given..

The offhand use of a time or place..

All of these things could be the last piece of information a predator needs to plan a hit.

Considering this, he sat back in his chair, took up his mug in both hands, and paused to enjoy the warmth of it against his fingers and palms before leaning in for a sip.

_Supreme vigilance will be necessary_, he mused, _if using this program to contact Amial is to be viable_.

_No dates can be mentioned.._

_Direct references to her movements, and mine, must be avoided.._

_My exact location must be omitted..as must hers.._

_Our plan to rendezvous here must also be skirted, if possible.._

_Names too, though hers is unavoidably public knowledge, should be avoided..Very few people can connect my name to a face, but it has been used against me in the past..I will not risk Kolyat's safety to a slip caused by casual verbiage.._

_The depth of our bond should also be..left to implication..I've no desire to have her enemies see me as a convenient path through which she could be hurt.._

_But outside of these things.. ..we should be able to converse with a modicum of freedom.. ..especially since the AI__C__S is not a public system.. ..__EDI's presence too would be a welcome buffer, but without first-hand knowledge of her status, I can't rely on her being there.._

It took a deeply tense ten minutes of staring for him to weigh all of this and come to a conclusion..but finally..he was decided. He trusted his mate's trust in the program.. ..and while he would have _distinct_ reservations about using it extensively until he was sure of how secure it actually was.. ..he would try it. The text-based option first, and the vid-link if he felt it was a safe enough venture.

Knowing her, he knew that his love would understand his want for caution, and the ways in which he would express it to her when they made contact. She was of a similar mind when it came to trusting the security surrounding any area of the extranet and, having had over a year's practice, was adept at conversing with him through allusions, allegory and misdirection.

These skills had served them so well that it had taken his getting deathly ill for their relationship to become widely known of aboard the Normandy. Maintaining privacy had fallen in the face of urgency and fear then, but things were different now.

They had time..and could indulge their mutual love of speaking the language of implication for as long as they pleased.

Turning his attention back to the screen, Thane sat his mug down and started the AICS, watching it cycle through its various loading screens as it woke up.

It then prompted him to enter his pre-issued username and password..

..and a memory came..

-_My breaths are laboured with both sickness and emotion as_ _Ami grasps my hands in hers. Her eyes glaze with tears as she speaks..She is leaving for Earth.. 'You can only get a hold of these codes from serving soldiers. It keeps the lines clean..So..' she pauses, then swallows with difficulty, her throat dry. "The username is ShepardA.4747..and the password's AnAbleShepard.2148.. .._There're no spaces between any of the characters.. ..T_hat'll get you into the system. After that, you'll need to make yourself a screen name, and then it'll connect you to me. Just drop in a message and I'll link up. Ok?'_-

Coming back to himself, he pulled in a deep breath to ease the tightness the memory left in his chest, and said a silent prayer to honour the man who's life had inspired both entries - his Siha's deceased father, Lieutenant Able Shepard. She had explained the story behind the codes to him just before she left, saying it'd help him remember them. The fact that she thought she had to do that..had to explain these things to a man who possessed eidetic memory and therefore needed nothing more than a single recitation of each code..was a testament to how rattled she was at the time.

- _'My dad's mail account began, like all Alliance ones do, with his surname and first initial, followed by the last four digits of his service number. So, ShepardA..and 4747. That's the username. __And the password..is kinda funny actually. The other people in his unit teased him about how his name was laid out. 'Able Shepard' is pretty literal if you squint. 'Good leader', right? That's not what my grandma meant by it when she named him, but that's what his squad saw. Like good soldiers, they never let him live it down, so 'An Able Shepard' is the first part of the password. And he married my mother Hannah in 2148..and that's the rest.' _-

Concluding his prayer, his mate's voice tender in his ears, he blinked himself free of his memories and filled in the login details she had provided for him.

Username: [ShepardA.4747]

Password: [AnAbleShepard.2148]

He then clicked the [Login] button, and waited with baited breath to see if it would work. It took 30 seconds or so, but soon a new window opened, welcoming him to the program proper and inviting him, as predicted, to create his screen name and attempt to set up a connection with her.

It wasn't a sure thing. She could be out on a mission..otherwise indisposed..in a meeting..or doing heaven knows what else with her day..but he had to try.

His mind made up, he guided the cursor over the [Create screen name] box and set about considering his options.

* * *

><p>The Normandy idled, quiet and easy, within the heart of the Farinata system in the Hades Gamma Cluster. The black spanned out around it in all directions, rich and endless and <em>silent<em>. There was little to no Reaper activity here, relatively distant as it was from the central systems and their planets, but no one was counting on that remaining true for long.

As usual when she wasn't on duty and was out of excuses not to, Ami Shepard was settled at the private terminal in her cabin, writing up a report of the day's events. Today had been..fruitful..literally and figuratively, and she cast her mind back as she considered what to include.

A real piece of luck had happened upon the ship a day back - on day five of eight if you want to count the way the Commander was doing. Five of the eight that had to pass before she could return to the Citadel and the arms she knew were waiting for her. On that day there had been three empty boxes left on the calendar on her desktop..one for each day she had left out on the job..and there were two now, this being day six of eight..two more days to go..Time had slowed to a crawl between missions and she was becoming more and more restless and..

..and..

..this train of thought wasn't helping her write her report at all.

..

_Fuck_

..

Huffing out an irritated breath, she refocused and got to typing.

The lucky break had come when, during a routine scan of the wreckage of a fuel station in the Antaeus system, Specialist Traynor's nose got itchy and she tracked down a whisper amid the silence. It was soft as a breath, and a hint garbled by the distance it'd travelled, but it was there. And better, it was coming in off an Alliance channel.

[-is - -mmandin- Admir- -s Lindh-m of th- Firs- -eet, Al-cne Na-y. A-y who cop-, come b-k]

Tracking the signal to its source was like trying to follow a trail of breadcrumbs across a desert, but after an all-nighter's worth of searching they'd made it to the Farinata system. The signal was stronger here. Again and again the same message played, repeating automatically.

Clear as a bell.

[This is Commanding Admiral Ines Lindholm of the First Fleet, Alliance Navy. Any who copy, come back.]

A whoop of relief had gone up ship-wide.

Another pocket of the Fleet had survived the assault on Earth.

Hanging in orbit around Juntauma, the remnants of the First Fleet looked like dots of gunshot residue against the planet's rusty orange-red. They were down to below half-strength, and they were limping, but it was obvious, as the Normandy approached, that repairs were being made and that Admiral Lindholm was welcoming of friendly faces.

After a brief and obviously relieved exchange over the comm, the Commander had been invited across to discuss tactics, and to bring the Admiral up to speed on current events. Although she'd only meant to linger for an hour tops, two became three very quickly, and a distinctly sheepish Shepard returned with a bent ear, some greatly useful intelligence on the location of the Seventh Fleet, a tale or two and four, count them, _four_ crates of apples that the Admiral had going spare.

Sure they were more or less only good for apple pie now, being that most were a little soft around the edges, but still! She could _taste_ the vitamin C just looking at the boxes on the shuttle ride back to the Normandy, and couldn't resist easing herself down into the foot-well, cracking one of them open and sneaking a couple of the fruits for herself as they docked.

It had been her plan to harangue Cortez into helping her drag the load up to the mess to share out, but the man was one step ahead of her. At about the halfway point between the First and the Normandy he pinged Vega, who pinged every free hand on the lower two decks.

As soon as the shuttle doors opened, she'd been mobbed.

..

Typing away, she chuckled softly to herself in remembrance of the scrum that'd occurred in the cargo bay an hour and a half back, and peeped across to her left at the bowl of six slightly bruised but shiny apples that'd made itself at home on her desk. The fact would never be known beyond the foot or so between her and the bowl, but there had once been eight in there. She'd already polished off two of them before settling in and forcing herself to focus on her report, and was mid-way to making a grab for a third when a bleep from her terminal brought her attention back to the screen.

An AICS conversation box had opened up during her second's inattention.

_THobbs_ was the screen name, and the sender opened with a word that should have filled her with instant glee.

'Siha'

Instead of glee though, a lead weight dropped into her belly.

..

..

She stared at the thing for a good minute, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't shock that stilled her. She'd had the AICS installed on both her terminal and her Omni-tool for an age, having spent the entirety of her incarceration vainly hoping to hear from her beau despite the ban on comms, and left it running in her downtime on whichever piece of hardware she was closest to by force of habit. It was certainly possible therefore, for people who had access to the program to get in touch with her through it..

..

..but that fact didn't make this THobbs character familiar to her.

She didn't know anyone by that name, and while she was well aware that it could be Thane trying to contact her, particularly since her soul-name had been mentioned, she was still suspicious.

Sceptical as all-get-out, she drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly and typed, 'Who is this?' into the message box. The use of 'Siha' be-damned, she had too many enemies looking for a leg up on her not to be doubly cautious.

The reply was almost instant.

'You are unsure?'

Her brows rose at the tone this apparently unknown person was taking with her, and she was set on sending a rather intemperate response when a voice came over the general comms channel.

-/Commander/-

"EDI" she greeted, gesturing to the conversation window before balling her hands into loose fists to keep from fidgeting with the haptic interface. "Are you seeing this?"

-/I am/- she replied, an odd hint of something like self-satisfaction in her tone. Ignoring it, and the fact that the AI somehow managed to project the feeling that she knew precisely what was going on here and was enjoying watching her struggle, Shepard asked,

"Can you pull up a technical spec on it for me? I don't recognise the name."

-/The sender is accessing the Alliance Instant Communication Service through legitimate means, Commander/- EDI explained, keeping the information she gave out at this juncture as perfunctory as possible. She was glorying still in the ability to understand and in some ways process emotions, and found that she had something of a liking for drawing out situations that amused her.

-/The username and password they used to access the system are genuine/- she went on, unwilling to be openly obstructive despite how she enjoyed observing Shepard's 'I'm thinking this out' behaviours, -/and there are no detectable VI processes present within the data stream./-

Reassured to a point that the person who had contacted her had done so, or at least seemed to have done so, in good faith, Ami dug a little deeper, "Any chance you confirm the source? I've only given out my details to.." she thought a moment, "four people, max..and only one of them calls me 'Siha'..but.."

-/Your caution is well placed/- EDI said, her voice taking on an almost mirthful lilt as she revealed a little more of what she knew, -/I can confirm that your.._gentleman caller_..is using an Omni-tool which has the same serial number that Mr Krios's had when he was travelling with us. But I advise that you seek further confirmation of their identity before deciding on whether to convey any personal information./-

"Gentleman caller? You're funny" Shepard snuffled, regarding the conversation window guardedly, "..and you're also right. I can't be too careful..so..let's see here.."

'I'm going to need you to identify yourself' she wrote in her most diplomatic manner.

..

Settled in his room at Huerta Memorial, Thane chuckled deeply at the turn their conversation had begun to take, or better said, had begun _with_. Truly, he admired her caution. Since he'd never actually used this program before, he had needed to create himself an identity from scratch, so she was rightly suspicious of the appearance of an unfamiliar screen name. He had hoped that his choice might have reminded her of a conversation they once had.. 'Do you read your philosophers? A man named Thomas Hobbs?'..hence THobbs..but since she hadn't caught it, he would need to be a little less oblique.

Perhaps a memory would do the trick..like the one he had included in the note he wrote to her days back..or something about himself that was personal to _them_..

It took a few moments of concentrated effort, but as he drew in a deep breath for the simple luxury of being able to do so, inspiration came. He would begin with a specific memory, which would lead him to the larger point he wanted to make. Both would help reassure his mate as to his identity, and the second would make up the most overt expression of his affection for her that he could manage on a channel he didn't quite trust.

First then..the memory..

'An old song is playing' he wrote, 'It was fashionable once, and still is in some circles. The lyrics speak to me, and inform her choice of words.. ..Do you dream in metaphors, Siha?'

He was confident that she would recognise both memory and question, for she was present for the former, and the latter was _hers_. During one of the long discussions they had enjoyed on their last tour, talk had strayed onto possible words and phrases they could use to make their conversations-by-implication richer, and 'dreaming in metaphors' had been one of her contributions. To them, it was both a segue into a conversation that wasn't to be taken at face value, and a call for caution to be exercised in speaking openly on insecure channels.

A moment later, his trust in the phrase's impact was proven to be well placed. Her reply came, 'Yes. Do you?'

'I do' he wrote, affirming the need for a modicum of discretion before adding, 'So when I say that you are, quite literally, the reason for every breath I take, I want you to understand my full meaning.'

..

It took a couple of read-throughs for what he was implying to sink in, but when it did Ami's heart gave such a flutter that she lost a breath to it. 'The reason for every breath I take' was not, as it could have been read, simply an expression of how much he loved her. Affection was implied, but there was more to it than that. He was referring to his lungs. The lungs that Professor Solus made for him using the tissue they both donated.. ..and that, without her human resistance to the causes of Keprals Syndrome, would not have 'cured' him of the illness..

She'd had an inkling as soon as EDI informed her about the username and password..and had known as soon as he asked her _that_ question..but now it was indisputable. Her mysterious caller was definitely, unequivocally Thane.

And suddenly, all she could think of was keeping this line safe.

"EDI" she began, "I'm gonna need you to-" but the AI was ahead of her.

-/I have isolated the communication and am scrambling it in real-time./-

"And that works how?" she pressed, needing clarification before her mind would settle.

-/The AICS utilises a closed connection system, Commander. It allows sender A to connect to receiver B by specifying the communication's point of origin and its intended destination, and assigning each a unique recognition signal. This signal is like a beacon. It directs the message to its intended destination and, once contact is made, allows for the exchange of data. For conversation, in this case./-

"Ok.. ..and the scrambling part?"

-/I have been able to trace the recognition signal to its source, Sere Krios's Omni-tool, and am scrambling the holographic encryption the AICS uses to transmit the data, your conversation, from him, sender A, to you, receiver B. My firewalls are also active, and will detect any attempts by third parties to access the data. Even if they accessed it however, they could not use it../-

"..because you've scrambled it.."

-/Yes./-

"_Fantastic_. Thank you EDI" she said, turning back to the screen and re-reading her beau's last entry. Puffing out a greatly touched breath, she replied, 'Jesus man, the things you say to me.'

'You trust my identity now, Siha?' came his response. She could almost hear him chuckling as he wrote it, and smiled impishly as she answered,

'I'd trust it more if I could see your face.'

'Would that be wise?' he came back, ever cautious, 'You know how I worry.'

'Of course it would be. EDI's scrubbing the line.'

Though he couldn't convey it in words, Thane allowed himself a sigh of relief at the AI's vigilance. Curious then, he typed,

'Are you at your terminal?'

'The one in my room, yeah. I'm on nights, so I'm catching up on paperwork.'

'We have time to speak then?' he asked, wanting to be sure that he wasn't intruding before getting his hopes up about speaking with her face-to-face. When her, "We do. Just give me a minute.." popped up on-screen he gave a relieved huff, and appended his earlier thoughts about quite what could be safely shared during their conversation.

_Caution is still warranted regardless of EDI's presence_, he mused, _but we can work together in finding our equilibrium instead of lingering unnecessarily on maintaining a facade. That said..there is nothing at all unpleasant about playing word games and trading implications with my Siha.._

His earlier niggling doubts more or less settled, Thane had a look around to find something to do while his mate went about whatever business she needed to in the 'minute' she'd requested.

There was no need for a refill on the tea yet..

The tea maker had long been packed away..

His books, bar one, had been packed in preparation for leaving..

His bed was made to his usually exacting standards..but..

The door.

The door was unlocked at present, and that had to be fixed.

There was little he wanted less than an interruption at this particular point in time.

After giving the screen another glance, Thane rose and made for the door. He engaged the lock while taking a quick inventory of the rest of the room, searching for anything that struck him as being out of place amid the studiously-kept neatness. Whilst he found nothing to speak of, he detoured to the foot of his bed before making his way back to his seat, and took a moment to sink his fingers into the rapturously textured blanket that he and his love had once shared, and would share again if he had his way, on their bed aboard the Normandy. While he had lived a near ascetic life during his active years, he had discovered a distinct fondness for simple tactile luxuries like this, and indulged in them as often as he could.

Then..as he moved to smooth the wrinkles his touch had left with its passing..a deeply becoming memory unfurled in his mind..

_- She is all pale skin..dark hair..and beguiling eyes in the darkness of her quarters..My sight is keen, even in the dim, and in this moment, I am riveted by her. She gazes at me from within the blanket upon our bed..curled in its length and encompassing breadth..I watch her from my place on the divan..picking out the slivers of 'her'__ I can see __against the billowing swell of rippling velvet..A__ foot..small toes..a too delicate ankle..and her face..Nothing else of her is visible.. ..Then..__slowly..__an arm emerges __from within the folds.. ..She feigns languidness so well..'It's too cool out there' she says, __beckoning to me with __a single curled finger..'Come in here..I'll warm you..' -_

..and stayed with him as he somewhat mechanically straightened the blanket, and moved to settle in his place by the table once more. He smiled lovingly at the message waiting for him, 'Just locked my door to keep the yeoman at bay. Ready when you are', and felt his heart rate kick up at the prospect of being little more than a click away from seeing his Siha again.

He took just a brief moment's pause, revelling in the anticipation, then clicked the 'vidcall' button.

..

A window opened up above the text-box they had been conversing through, showing a small verison of what his Omni-tool's camera saw of him in the lower right-hand corner while the rest remained blank as the link was made. He adjusted the focus a little as he waited, hoping to give her his best side..

Then..a flash..

And there she was, dressed to the nines in her blues, the collars undone, her white undershirt visible..the smile on her lips reflected in her eyes..

"Hey you.." she greeted warmly, affection colouring her tone as she drank him in. He looked as well as he had when she saw him in person, his eyes bright and alert, his colours rich and breaths steady. Today's shirt was a shade of slatey silver-grey, as opposed to the white he had been wearing when she visited him. She decided, after a moment's dedicated consideration, that it suited him. "How've you been?"

"Restless, but otherwise very well" he replied, caught enough by the sight of her that continuing their tête à tête was, at least for a moment, a bit of a struggle. "And you?"

"Can't complain" Ami said amiably, mindful to keep her words nonspecific and her questions as broad as possible so that her mate could make of them what he wished. "Been up to much recently?"

Thane inclined his head slightly as he considered his reply. "My routine keeps me busy" he said, "though there was some excitement yesterday afternoon. I received the last of the traveller's seven; the final precautionary measure my doctors have deemed it appropriate to take before I leave."

She frowned faintly, but her smile didn't waver. "The traveller's what-now?"

"The traveller's seven" he explained, "are immunisations against the seven maladies most commonly encountered by people who travel widely. It's just a precaution of course, but it pays to be prepared."

..Now..

..Now her smile wavered..

Just a little though..She was more curious than concerned..

"Ohhh I see.." she said, "..Have you had to take others as well or..?"

"A couple of routine immuno-boosters, yes, but that is nothing out of the ordinary" he soothed. She masked it well, but his love's disquiet was obvious to him through the set of her shoulders and the pinch of her brow. "All of the patients here who have been as sick as I was receive extra care when they are set to be transferred or discharged.. ..Worry not. I'm fine."

"I know that in my head.." she murmured, a faintly shamefaced cast to her expression.

"But it is difficult to believe?"

It took her a moment to answer, her awkwardness becoming an odd mix of relief and mild ignominy. "..You come to expect something for so long, and then..it doesn't happen and..you don't know how react..you know?" she mustered, glad of the fact that her beau simply nodded his understanding instead of leaping to appease her. He'd always been fantastic at knowing when silence and a lent ear were needed instead of rushed platitudes.

She tried to collect her thoughts and elaborate a bit, "That probably sounds.." but they scattered as soon as she attempted to pin them down. Shaking her head, she muttered a disconcerted, "..oh I don't know.." and raked a hand through her hair as she met Thane's gaze again. Even through the screen, it's weight was a tangible thing, and its presence gentled her unease somewhat.

"It sounds familiar, Siha" he put in after a slight pause, "I've often had to re-ask questions of my doctors, just for the comfort that hearing the answers anew brought." He snuffled softly at the thought, recounting some of his favourites for her. "..'You're sure the scan was clear?'..'Might the results be wrong?'..'Are the drugs really working?'..'Are you _sure_?'.."

"There's nothing wrong with that.." she noted, a hint of mirth replacing the disquiet that had bubbled up moments earlier.

"Nothing at all" he agreed, mindful that lingering on such an emotionally charged topic was unwise when he wasn't present to properly comfort her. Taking up his mug and having quick sip to buy a few seconds to think, Thane settled on a much less prickly line of conversation.

"Tell me though" he said, "other than your shift, have you any plans for your evening?"

Glad for the topic change, Ami leaned and snagged the apple she'd wanted earlier, showing it to him before slipping a penknife from her jacket pocket and setting about coring the fruit.

"Well" she began, allowing herself a brief wander away from his question to introduce her prize to their conversation, "I went shopping for some of these earlier today.."

That was a half truth really..She _had_ procured them from someone..The fact that that someone was an Admiral in the Alliance Navy didn't need mentioning, and Thane, as she knew he wouldn't, didn't press for details.

"That looks delicious" he said, looking more closely at the flickering image on the screen. "An apple, yes?"

A grin lit up her face at his recognition. "Yeah..Do you like them?"

"I've never had the occasion to try one" he admitted, his eyes following the dexterous way she manipulated blade and fruit, before cutting out a slice and biting it in half so she might talk while she enjoyed her snack. "But, with your recommendation, I shall make a point of doing so in the future."

"Consider them recommended" she said around her bite, swallowing it down and returning to his question. "Anyways..the evening..I'll try and get a couple of these down before they start to get really soft.." she waggled her knife at the bowl off screen to her left, "Got five here..Then it's off to work..Then..back from work..and then to bed at something like 4 in the AM. Lucky me." Rolling her eyes for affect, she quickly popped the second half of the slice of apple into her mouth and asked, "What about you? Got big plans?"

"That would depend on your definition of 'big', Siha" Thane chuckled. "As I mentioned before, I'm feeling rather restless, so I may slot an extra walk into my evening schedule before retiring to bed with the book I'm working through. Otherwise.." he gave a half-shrug and a charming grin, "I have no plans."

"You lucky swine" Ami tsk'd good-naturedly, "It's all right for some. Oh hey.." Perking up visibly, as if the thought had just come to her, she asked, "You said you're off home soon, right? Leaving the hospital?"

"I am, yes" he nodded, letting his elation at both that fact in general, and at her ingenuity in bringing his rejoining her aboard the Normandy into their conversation with the phrase 'off home', show through his smile. The fact that she considered her ship to be his home was..heartening in ways he couldn't quite put into words.

"I bet you'll need to go grocery shopping big time, the length of time you've been away" she mused, cutting herself a second slice of apple. "You after anything special?"

The question she spoke, and what she was actually asking, were entirely different and he knew it. She wasn't concerned about what he could get for himself. Indeed, it was unlikely that he would have time for shopping before rejoining the crew. Her concern instead was what _she_ could get for _him_. The words 'anything special' and the way she spoke the question made that obvious to him.

Warmed by her consideration, Thane gave the question some serious thought. He considered a covert request for a couple of his favourite delicacies..for rare and exotic blends they could share..or perhaps for a drop of his preferred wine. He barely paused to sniff the lip of the bottle usually, but his return to the Normandy deserved to be marked with a wine of an appropriate quality that he and his mate could enjoy.

.._Perhaps over dinner.._

In all honesty though, outside of those purely indulgent things that he really didn't feel right asking her to procure for him out of her own pocket, there was little in the way of material goods he wanted. His only real wish was to go home to her.

..And that..that was something he felt no compunction in alluding to..

"Truly, all I want is to get home" he said, his tone conveying a mixture of relief and a hint of fatigue. "I've spent over seven months here now..my privacy necessarily invaded to varying degrees on a daily basis.. ..I can think of nothing I desire more than locking the door behind me.. ..taking a long bath.."

"A Drellish one?" Ami put in gently, surprising him with both that formative mention and the clarification she added, "With warm sand and a hot cloth?"

"..That very kind" he agreed, stopping himself from asking her about her knowledge of his people's bathing habits lest he imply too openly that the door behind which he wished to be locked was hers.

She knew of course.

It didn't need saying.

Her expression warmed obviously at his words, and he got the distinct impression, from the little wink she gave him, that he may well be able to have just the kind of bath he'd hoped for when he.._got home_.

"What would you like to do after that?" she prompted, nipping her newest slice of apple in half and chewing it thoughtfully as she listened.

"Hmm..let me see.." Thane murmured, watching her suckle a droplet of apple juice from her lower lip and, going on how she smiled, delighting her by copying the gesture as he considered his answer. "There are the necessities of course.. ..brewing tea.. ..remaking my bed.. ..unpacking my belongings.. ..and then..I think.. ..I will do what I've wanted to for the past several months, and retire to my bed with those closest to me."

Though she wanted to with every fibre of her being, Ami managed to stop herself from quipping wryly at the last item on her beau's ad hoc to-do list. Ripe as it was with implications and possible avenues for friendly banter, she knew that it was not for following up on.

It acted as both a clue to his intentions towards her.. ..which, as an aside, she had absolutely _no_ problems with..

Hell, she'd wanted the same thing for literally months, and had a mind to making their eventual bed-mediated-reacquaintance as thorough and loving an experience as their affection for each other demanded it be.

..and an artful misdirection aimed at any unsolicited ears that may or may not be listening in. His using the plural could imply anything..from the most loving things..falling asleep with a wife and children around him for example..to ones so uncharacteristically _sordid _that her mind balked at relating them to him.

Her decision to quietly sidestep that particular topic thus made, she cocked her head to the side slightly, polished off the rest of apple-slice the second, and began, "Can't say I blame you for keeping things low key.." before changing tack and snickering, "though Mother Hen's been talking about throwing a party when you get out.."

He knew of whom she spoke as soon as he heard the nickname she had given the woman during his protracted tenure in the medical bay, and chuffed fondly in disbelief at hearing of her plans for him. No matter how often he politely declined opportunities to be made a fuss over, Doctor Chakwas had a persistence about her that he sometimes imagined rivalled his own.

"Goddess" he sighed, playing up his affront at the suggestion to amuse his love, "must she?"

"I haven't heard a peep from her about it in days" Ami clarified mirthfully, "but she's mentioned wanting to."

"Well she may, of course" Thane replied, his manner both gracious and pointedly reserved, "but.."

"If you could hide away with your books, you would right?"

His answering, "_Invariably_" was so categorically deadpan that it made her chuckle.

"I'll tell her. Hell, I've _told_ her. But I'll tell her again."

"My thanks.." he breathed, pausing uncertainly before adding,"..She knows I appreciate the thought, I hope.."

"She does, yeah. I honestly think she was joking when she said it, but I wanted to give you the heads-up nonetheless."

"Thank you.. ..I'm sincerely grateful to her.. ..I'd just prefer a few days of rest before I'm needed for public appearances."

She tried, but Ami couldn't hide the grin his vehemence brought her. After logging away the 'a few days of rest' comment as all the reason she'd need to allot a healthy dose of shore-leave around the time of Thane's arrival, she quipped, "All right then Sere" with the barest modicum of cheek, delighting at how the respectful turn of phrase earned her a raised brow from her mate. "Instead of a party, how about we celebrate a little here?"

"What have you in mind?" he asked, the sound of a sharpened blade cutting fruit coming to him across the channel as he spoke.

"Besides seeing you well and enjoying your company, which is celebration enough for me" she replied, raising a newly sliced piece of apple in place of a glass, "how's about a toast to your health?"

A mirthful rumble escaped through the smile her beau gave her. "If fruit and tea are an adequate substitute for harder libations.." he said, raising his mug and tipping it a measured fraction towards the screen, "yes..a toast it is."

"To my dear noble Sere" Ami crowed happily, "May you live long enough for me to become better on the range than you are!"

At that, Thane actually laughed. "Such a thing could take _decades_" he quipped jovially, accepting her toast and sipping his tea as she nipped at her slice of apple. While his comment may have seemed, in content, not tone, rather..untoward..given the circumstances he was not underestimating her chances. Her lack of skill with a scope was something she embraced with a jovial passion, though her response was not spoken in jest by any means.

"Exactly" she said, smiling as her mate caught her eyes. She could almost see his mind working as he decoded her simple, loving implication.

She was wishing him decades..

Yes.. ..that was it.. ..of course she was..

Struck, it took him a moment to answer her, and when he did, he used the word she had in lieu of expressing the wave of affection that her allusion brought in a more verbose manner. That could come later.

For now.."Exactly"..was enough.

* * *

><p>In the end, they spoke for hours longer than either had intended; another one and a half apples falling to Ami's knife before a chime at Thane's door, which heralded the arrival of his early-evening prescription, made them aware of the time. They'd canvassed topics that were neither entirely relevant nor entirely irrelevant to their actual circumstances, and tacitly agreed that 'dreaming in metaphors' had been the right way to approach the exchange.<p>

It had to be that way.

EDI's presence be-damned, neither of them had any intention of spinning anything but a compelling charade for any prospective moles, spies, infiltrators or other such unwelcome third parties to their conversation.

When the time came, they parted ways after a loving, intentionally oblique exchange.

"Are you counting?" Thane asked.

Ami beamed. "Yes."

"How many?"

"Still to go?"

"Yes."

"Two."

"I swear to you, they will fly."

"They'd better. I'm climbing the walls here."

"As am I, here. Rest well when you rest, my Siha."

"And you.."

..

As the connection closed, the now mentally exhausted woman gave a sigh, resting her elbows on her knees and bowing her head for a moment as she dropped out of conversation-with-Thane mode. _Well_..she thought, rubbing her hands over her face to help ease away three and a quarter hours-worth of talking..**_that_**_ has to be the best procrastination method I've ever come across_. _Hell if I'm finishing that report before my shift now._

Despite the fact that she'd more or less spoken her mind dry, there was one tiny little addendum that needed saying that she couldn't bring herself to utter over an open channel. Drawing it up from the very pit of her belly, she puffed out a long exhalation, leaned back in her chair, looked right at the ceiling and spoke with pride and absolute sincerity,

"Mother of the fucking **_GODS_** I love that man."

The room had no answer for her, but she didn't care.

He knew.

She knew.

Her tiny little spot in the universe was, in this moment, utterly perfect and...

-/Commander/-

..she jumped when EDI's voice came across the general comm.

"Jesus EDI, what is it?"

The AI actually sounded..was that sheepish? Yes..definitely sheepish as she answered, -/I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Sere Krios../-

"No, I bet you couldn't.." Ami groused. Of course she couldn't miss the bloody conversation. She pretty much _was_ the channel through which it was being _had_!

-/..and I wanted to express my sincere congratulations./-

Wrong-footed slightly, it took her a moment or two to respond. "I..thanks EDI, but.." she frowned slightly, a smirk tugging at her lips, "didn't you already know about Thane being on the mend? I told Doctor Chakwas four days back now, and if you can monitor conversations in here, I know damn well you can in medbay.."

-/I did/- she confirmed, -/but didn't think it was appropriate to approach you about it sooner. I know you value your privacy, Commander, and I wanted to respect that.. ..for as long as possible./-

..

Something about that pause..and her tone..just didn't quite sit right with Shepard's sense of comfort.

"EDI.." she drew, a warning note in her voice.

-/While I've gathered that Mr Krios wouldn't appreciate having to attend a get-together thrown in his honour/- the AI cut in, -/particularly on his formative days after rejoining the crew, he has friends here who want to celebrate his impending return. Myself included. I would therefore respectfully suggest that, in the interest of squad cohesion, you join the small gathering I've arranged in two evening's time in the port observation room./-

After a moment of flabbergasted silence, Ami gave a wry laugh. "The gathering, huh? How long has this been on the cards?"

An air of smugness took EDI's voice then. -/Doctor Chakwas and I agreed on it when you left her office after your meeting about Mr Krios rejoining the Normandy./-

..

..

Though the Commander declined to comment further, and shook her head with fondness-tinged-annoyance at the frankly obscene amount of subterfuge taking place aboard her ship, somehow..while she knew she could decline EDI's offer, and studiously contemplated doing so as she turned back to her report..she knew she wouldn't.

* * *

><p>AN two, the sequel: A final little note. The writers Thane pondered upon were, in order, John Dryden and Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

And now!

**_Coming in the next instalment!_**

We return to the Citadel.

A little light shopping is done.

The second female Drell of the series makes an appearance. Did you notice the first? Cookies if you did! :-D

And last but by no means least...Kolyat.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: Welcome all to chapter 6. Oddly, I feel like I need to apologise for the length of this chapter. It's the longest yet, and will, if all goes to plan, be the longest ever. I promise and swear. It's written from a variety of points of view, each of which has its own section. All of the sections build on each other, and run chronologically, so if you'd prefer to take a couple at a time between tea/coffee/beverage breaks (that's how I proofread it) please do :-)

**A quick, spoiler free, important note on pronunciation here!**

The 'Ll' in the Turian's name is pronounced as it is in Welsh. You'll know who I mean when you see it, and there's a little note at the end of the chapter if you find it a mouthful.

Oh! I know I wrote in my endnote in the last chapter that the second lady Drell of the series would be making an appearance here. As it happens, both of them cropped up as I was writing :-)

Comments, thoughts, ideas and conjecture are always cherished.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G_

* * *

><p><span>The Return<span>

**_A busy morning told from the perspectives of many, ends in a meeting that has been planned for days_**

Shift-change at the Zakera Ward branch of Citadel Security ran like clockwork. With districts like Shin Akiba, it had to. If it didn't..if there were parts of the day when patrols got light or desk-work got sloppy..it'd be easy for those of a nefarious bent to turn the situation to their advantage and cause all manner of havoc.

A resolute member of the morning shift set, Kolyat Krios had just made it to work. Dressed in his uniform blues and carrying a small rucksack containing his workday effects, he strode through the precinct's public areas on his way to the admin-wing. According to his Omni-tool he was an hour early, but that didn't matter to him. Early starts made it less likely that he'd end up distracted by the comings and goings of people he knew from his regular shift, and that meant he could get through another section of the paperwork-debt he owed Commander Bailey in peace. He'd incurred it in return for a single-use six hour leave slot that he would use, when needed, to visit his father at Huerta.

..

Well..that's what he'd told Bailey at least.

Much as he didn't like doing it, the need to fib in this instance was clear. If he'd been honest about his purpose..seeking out Shepard..his CO would have tried to stop him, and that simply wasn't an option at this point in time.

After sliding his ID through the security point at the entrance to the administrative areas of the station, Kolyat shouldered the door open, took a sharp left and entered the cavernous main office. It was a sterile space, lit by rows of fluorescent white cat's-eye lights that were set into the ceiling. Its walls and floor were distinguishable only by a fractional variation in their respective shades of grey, and between the still air and a relatively crisp 16°C ambient temperature, the place was more or less a recipe for discomfort for any Drell who lingered there too long.

Being ectothermic to a large extent, it was a trial getting through a shift without either having five small meals, or spending one's lunch hour sitting surreptitiously close to the radiator in the canteen.

Within this intrinsically uncomfortable area, a rabbit's warren of cubicles sprawled in regimented rows from wall to wall. Scuttlebutt said that Bailey gave the most sort-after ones..those closest to the coffee machine and the exit..to his 'favourites', but practice, in Kolyat's opinion, exposed that as bullshit. As far as he knew, the Commander held him in no special regard, yet his workspace was within ten feet of the coveted caff dispenser.

Go figure.

As all non-commissioned hands did, Kolyat shared his space with an officer that Bailey had paired him with during his formative days in the division. He hadn't liked the idea at first, being a rather private creature who only played well with others when the mood took him, but it had grown on him with time.

..He still winced at the memory of meeting his 'partner' though..

..Gods it was _painful_..

-_I stand with Bailey in the lobby, waiting my turn to be paired off with an officer. One approaches when the Commander waves him over. He is a Turian, silver armoured and scarcely tattooed, his mandibles fluttering faintly in either amusement or greetings._

_'I'm Lleuus Tahl' he says, holding a talon out to me as I struggle to pronounce his name. After three attempts..a nightmare for any Drell who was raised, as I was, in the Hanar tradition of assigning importance to both the sharing and understanding of names..the closest I can muster to anything correct is 'Hle-uss'._

_He chuckles quietly at my effort. 'Call me Ollie, please..' he says, shaking my hand firmly. 'Everyone else does. I haven't met a single non-Turian who got my full name right the first time, so don't worry. You're not alone. Welcome to the force, partner.'_-

Though the memory left his throat flushed with embarrassment, Kolyat couldn't deny that knowing Ollie had been, and continued to be, a perk of his job at C-Sec. Despite the fact that the Turian had his commission, and therefore technically outranked him, he wasn't in the strictest sense his boss. He was more like a mentor; someone who showed him the ropes, and acted as his first port of call if he had a problem.

Having worked with him for almost a year now, Kolyat knew him to be an upstanding, right-before-easy kind of guy who, while meticulous and careful, had a distinct propensity to spend most of his on duty hours bemoaning the fact that his mate was working as the envoy of some general or other in a far-flung part of Turian space.

Sahlyihree this.. ..Sahlyihree that..

It was almost as maddening to listen to as his father's backwards logic was to decode.

Taking a left, then a right through the cubicles, Kolyat made it to that which he shared with Ollie, sat his rucksack on his table and shuffled the metric f$%ktonne of paperwork that'd landed on it in his absence into his 'To do' tray so he could get at his terminal. After giving the 'On' button a tap to wake the machine up, he pulled up his chair before it, settled with a huff, and resigning himself to another day of chilled extremities, mindless report writing, and spending his afternoon making himself useful in the customs department as he waited for word of the Normandy's arrival.

That last activity had become something of a preoccupation of his as the eight days his father had told him would pass before the ship returned counted down. Every afternoon for the past four he'd made it his business to help out and listen, hoping for a whisper..an indication..that it might be arriving imminently. It was a horrifically tiresome way of keeping his ear to the ground, but it was all he could do. He had nothing like the level of clearance he'd need to track the ship's movements through official means, and as for working with Scalia any more than he already had in procuring its last departure date..

Kolyat shuddered faintly at the thought.

It wasn't that she'd done a bad job. Not at all. On the contrary in fact. When he'd returned to the precinct after calling her for assistance, she'd been waiting for him with the data he needed. With it though he got four dozen questions, a small lecture on how, in this case at least, using a legal means (her administrative access to Citadel Control's records) to facilitate something illegal (telling him what she'd seen in said records) made doing the illegal thing feel less bad, and three hours..yes..**_three_**..**_solid_**..**_hours_** of wheedling.

Goddess the was woman curious!

In the end he'd felt so cornered that he 'came clean' and told her why he wanted the information he'd asked for. What he'd said..

..'A friend of mine..Nick's his name..is serving on the ship. I saw him when I visited my father in the hospital earlier today. He was getting patched up before heading out again, and couldn't stay long, but he told me that he'd be back after an eight day voyage. I want to go and meet him on the dock'..

..was utter bullshit outside of the timescale of course, but it'd pacified her and kept her from figuring out his true purpose.

That was enough for him.

Turning his thoughts from his gregarious associate and the limited chances his current method of tracking the Normandy had of actually working, Kolyat logged in to his terminal, turned to his rucksack as his desktop loaded, and unpacked the flask of hot broth he'd brought in to sip at until he could head to the canteen for lunch.

Dwelling on things would get him nowhere.

All he could do now was get on with his day and hope that, with his limited means, he could catch the Commander in time to speak to her.

* * *

><p>Dressed in her best off duty garb and nursing a <em>powerful<em> headache, Shepard strode into the Normandy's medical bay and winced slightly at the harsh lights. "Ok doc.." she greeted, giving Chakwas a wave and a smile that was more grimace than grin, "What's the plan for today? Are we all set?"

The doctor, who had been packing a shoulder bag for the day, looked up as her guest came in and swallowed back a snicker at the expression on her face. EDI's get-together had been a roaring success last night, but the Commander had clearly over-compensated when it came to imbibing.

Pitying the woman and her untrained liver, Chakwas tossed her a couple of aspirin before putting a notepad into her bag and starting on her questions. "That we are ma'm. I've been in contact with Thane's chief physician over the past few days, Pyral is his name, and we've agreed on an informal schedule that will get us, and Sere Krios, through the day as smoothly as possible."

The Commander perked up at the mention of her mate's name. They had exchanged brief messages over the AICS earlier in the morning before agreeing to precautionary radio-silence, but outside of telling her that his chief physician - who she now knew to be this Pyral chap - had made him aware that Doctor Chakwas was expected at Huerta today, and confirming that she too would arrive before he was discharged, very few details had been shared. They were simply too security-conscious to risk an information leak this close to their impending reunion.

Eager to learn more about how the day would unfold, Shepard strolled over to the doctor's desk and propped herself against it carefully to watch her pack. "You're leaving for Huerta as soon as we dock?" she asked, swallowing the pills she'd been given without need of water and watching a book and three pens disappear into her counterpart's bag as she nodded.

"I will be, yes" she confirmed, giving the Commander a smile before leaning down and pulling open the nearest file-draw. "Since I've never provided the specific treatments Thane receives as part of his regimen before, Doctor Pyral, myself and likely one or two of his other physicians will spend the morning going through them, as well as his case history and other associated notes. It'll be quite the full day for everyone involved.." she mused as she rummaged, "and for Thane too, I'd imagine."

Shepard frowned; a faint whisper of concern prompting her to ask, "Why's that? He's been cleared to leave already..right?"

"Oh yes of course" Chakwas soothed, selecting a file and squirreling it into her bag before kicking the draw closed and turning back to her visitor. "But since his health has changed so dramatically, and in such a singular way thanks to Professor Solus's treatments, his physicians will want to perform a final set of physical examinations to make doubly sure that they have accurate, up-to-date data on his condition to add to the records I'll receive when he leaves. According to Doctor Pyral, everyone who worked on his case is in raptures over his progress, and all of them, all eight of his physicians-"

"I'm sorry.." Shepard cut in, "_Eight_?"

"That's right" she nodded, "four surgeons, a general practitioner, two lung specialists and consultant on Drellish biology."

After a distinct pause, the Commander managed a thoroughly boggled, "..Well _shit_.." and then quipped, "I hope he won't need an exam from each of them. There'll be nothing left of him to bring back!"

Chakwas couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry ma'm" she assured, "It'll only take two to gather all the needed information." Getting back on track then, she added, "But yes, everyone is eager to keep an eye on his case, including, incidentally, the man who made all of this possible."

Shepard's expression lit with renewed interest. "Mordin?"

"Yes. He got in touch with me a couple of days ago, and was quite insistent that I provide him enough data about Thane's progress while he serves aboard the Normandy for him to make accurate projections on something he called 'outside applications'. I haven't a clue what he meant by that, but I'm not about to argue with him. He's done so much good work."

"Outside appli-" Shepard repeated, stopping herself when the words rang a bell in the back of her mind. "Thane mentioned that Mordin had spoken about the same thing with him" she said, "..or at least used the same words.."

Chakwas frowned faintly, considering the situation. "Hmm..well that's curious.." she mused. "I'll keep my nose to the ground from now on. Who knows what that man is getting up to these days." She paused thoughtfully, then gave her bag a light pat with both hands. "For now though, I've got a morning of meetings to get through..and a favour to ask of you, actually. If you're interested."

The Commander nodded gamely. "Shoot."

"Well.." she began, plucking a piece of folded paper from her bag and showing it to her prospective assistant as she leant over for a look. "Since coming to the hospital and waiting the day away would likely bore you rigid.."

"Hey" Shepard brooked jovially, "I'm not _that_ easily bored. And I might get to see Thane if I tag along."

"That's true enough ma'm" the doctor noted, "but what with-"

"I know" she conceded, "I'm only fooling. Hovering around the hospital won't help anyone, much as it'd gratify me. Sorry, I jumped in on you there. You were saying?"

"Yes" Chakwas chided fondly, "I thought that, since waiting at the hospital would be tiresome, you might enjoy getting a head start on the shopping."

For a moment, Shepard's brain stalled. "Shopping?"

"Of course" she chuckled, indicating the paper she held, "I've scrabbled together a list of non-medical essentials we'll need ready for Thane's arrival. I know you made your revision notes when we last talked about him coming aboard, but.."

Shepard balked, her ears suddenly burning. "Yeah, no that one's sort of.." she blurted, cutting herself off before she said something she couldn't take back.

"Too personal for use in public, yes ma'm?" Chakwas teased good-naturedly, amused by how quickly she'd gone from straight-faced to girlishly flustered. Though the Commander declined to comment, preferring to simply glare, the fact that the heat in her ears was quickly migrating to her cheeks told the doctor all she needed to know.

She'd hit the nail on the head.

"I thought as much" she grinned. "That _Bio-wares_ shop in Bachjret Ward would be a good place to start, I think."

"Bachjret Ward's an hour away by shuttle" Shepard noted, taking the list, tucking it into her jacket's inside pocket, and resisting the urge to flip her collar up and burrow down a bit to hide her face.

"That's right ma'm" Chakwas nodded, "I know it's not an essential activity, and I'll understand if work intrudes but, if nothing else, it'll help pass the time until Thane is discharged."

Shepard huffed. "Like heck it's not essential" she said, "I'll get it done, no trouble." She gave a resolute nod, then asked, "D'you have any idea of when we'll be able to spring Thane though? I'm _not_ missing that for a shopping trip."

The doctor smiled at her tone. "After the meeting" she clarified, closing her bag and slinging it up onto her shoulder as she left the room and headed for the elevator; the Commander attentive at her side. "We hope to finish up by about half past one..and once we have.." she paused briefly, knowingly, before adding, "we can see about you not missing _springing_ Thane."

At her pointed mimicry, Shepard felt her cheeks warm a hint further. "Right" she said, covering the little wince of embarrassment that being sassed about her eagerness caused by glancing quickly at her Omni-tool to check the time.

..[08:46]..

She held in a groan.

_God, how many hours is that now? Five? Closer to **six**? I'll be stark raving by the afternoon!_

Stepping into the lift behind Chakwas, she pressed the [Deck 2] button, folded her hands behind her back to keep from fidgeting (and thereby giving away her impatience any more than she already had) and spoke, in her best interested-for-official-reasons tone, to the ship's AI.

"EDI."

-/Yes Shepard/-

"I need to book a shuttle to Bachjret Ward. What's our ETA?"

-/09:05 Citadel time, give or take Citadel Control's usual margin for administrative backlog/-

"So what's that?" she guessed hopefully, "Ten minutes?"

EDI's amusement was obvious in her tone. Even to her, the woman's keenness to get the day going was clear. -/Half an hour, Commander/-

..

Shepard had to bite her lip to keep from cursing.

It was going to be a long day.

She could feel it.

* * *

><p>When next he glanced at it, the clock on his terminal's screen told Kolyat that it was [09:40]. He'd been joined in the interim by his supervisor-come-partner Ollie, the Turian officer with the emissary mate, and had spent the past hour and a half working through four of the reports he owed Commander Bailey. The one he'd finished moments prior to checking the time was number twenty-seven of the thirty-three he had to complete, within a galactic-standard week and on top of his usual duties, in return for the precious six hours of Shepard-finding leave he'd been given.<p>

It damn well wasn't a small debt to pay off but, pursing his lips briefly as he double-checked the count.._27 of 33..yes..that's right_..Kolyat felt that he had everything well in hand. He was making comfortably good time, this being the fourth day since he'd acquired what Bailey called his 'homework', and he was sure that he wouldn't need the three he had left to get through the remaining reports.

His extra work for the day complete, the young Drell snagged the mug of coffee Ollie had brought him when he'd arrived at the start of the morning shift, and drew from it deeply as he sat back in his chair for a moment's respite. In all honesty, he wasn't the biggest fan of the drink itself, but its warmth, and the edge the caffeine took off the fatigue that'd started creeping up on him, made it palatable.

Used to morning shifts or not, having to come in ahead of time to keep up with work these past few days, as well as dealing with the stress that his father's plans to go to war had heaped on his shoulders, had done his sleep patterns no good.

Catching himself before he could drift off into solipsistic contemplations of what it was to feel well rested, Kolyat finished all but the last dregs of his brew and sat his mug by his terminal. He gathered himself then, winced as the sound of a door slamming open echoed across the room, and stood so he could shake out his long limbs to ease a bout of cold-induced stiffness. Once he was more or less comfortable again, he cleared away the data pads and sheaves of paper littering his desk, and moved the finished reports into the 'Outgoing' file he'd made for them on his desktop.

He'd send them to Bailey at the end of his shift.

For now, he needed a refresher on the coffee.

Collecting up his mug again he edged around his chair, moved out into the aisle, and had made it about three steps when the sound of pounding footfalls behind him first registered.

He ignored them for another two steps.

After one more, a familiar voice called out his name..

"**KOLYAT**! Kolyat wait!"

..and he turned..and had barely enough time to brace himself before he was accosted by a terminally overbalanced whirlwind of blue-black scales and flailing limbs.

"Gods _Scalia_!" he yelped, catching the careering woman before she took either or both of them out in her flurry of haste. He managed to juggle his cup onto the desk beside Ollie, then put his strength into righting his struggling assailant and standing her on her feet. "Mind where the hell you're going will you!" he admonished, stepping away from her quickly lest he risk being manhandled again as she regained her balance.

"M'in a rush!" she panted, a frustrated hiss coming up from low in her throat when her equally Drellish counterpart decided to voice his irritation in a wordless, too-low-to-be-heard-by-most rumble of discontent. The noise was part and parcel of spending most days within hearing distance of him, but quite why he chose to express himself like that _now_ was beyond her.

Yes, she'd made him angry. What else was new? But that wasn't the point!

He usually spoke to her in those tones..for between Drell, wordless vocalisations were as much 'speech' as words and phrases..when they were in the company of people who couldn't hear them. He seemed to like the privacy aspect of it, and the fact that the vast majority of people who stood nearby for too long would start to feel a smidgen disorientated as their brains tried to process a sound that their ears weren't equipped to hear.

But Ollie, and Turians generally, _could_ hear it!

So much for privately-telling-off-Scalia-time, huh?

"Rush _elsewhere_" Kolyat warned, turning from the riotous calamity that was _her_ and focussing on reaching the coffee machine without being knocked flat. Unluckily for him though, she was having none of it. As soon as he made a move, small hands grabbed his left forearm.

"No!" she yipped, feeling him tense sharply at the uninvited contact. She hadn't the weight or physical strength to actually stop him, but her touch..or rather his need to escape it and prevent her from doing it again..turned him back to her.

"I've got_ big_ news!" she enthused, letting him yank his arm away and activating her Omni-tool so she could share what she knew. "It's just h-"

"Children.." Ollie cut in drolly, turning in his seat so he could watch the commotion in the aisle, "keep it peaceful please. The adults are working now."

Kolyat bristled, the pleats on his throat flushing with indignation. "You've got neck calling us kids" he retorted brusquely, ignoring Scalia's flutterings for a moment and focusing on Ollie. The Turian was easier on his equilibrium than the vivacious woman ever had been. "What are you?" he snorted, "Thirty?"

"Kolyat" Scalia called, tapping his side as she tried to show him her Omni-tool's display.

"Twenty-nine actually" Ollie grinned. He was too easy-going a man to be irked by the taciturn Drell's grumblings, and had known him for long enough to recognise the difference between true anger and noise for the sake of noise.

This was the latter.

In _spades_.

If the lad were Turian, he'd say he was looking to impress a lady with all the posturing he was doing, but you never can tell with Drell.

"Kolyat!" Scalia tried again, tugging at his arm now. As before, her effort was fruitless.

"See!" Kolyat groused, shrugging her off as he rode out the spike of frustration her calamitous arrival, and Ollie's commentary on it, had caused. "You've got eight years on me, tops."

"Eight damn sexy years, _kid_" the Turian oozed, putting on a lecherous tone simply because he knew it got right under Kolyat's scales. This swapping of quips and jibes went on for over a minute before Scalia, exasperated beyond belief at being ignored, drew in a deep breath and bellowed, "**KOLYAT**!" at the top of her lungs. Her volume earned a cry of discomfort from both men, but it got her fellow Drell's attention.

"**WHAT**!" he roared, snapping around to face her and glaring at her heatedly.

That was enough for her.

"Goddess would you _listen to me_" she implored, backing up a bit as Kolyat finally turned his attention to her Omni-tool's screen so she could keep what she was showing him from Ollie. For all what she'd done in accessing the information she'd accessed was technically legal given her job, sharing it technically _wasn't_.

She didn't need the generally tolerant Turian getting all by-the-book with her _now_.

"Look at what I've _found_!" she breathed excitedly, her words tapering to a gleeful squeak as Kolyat grasped her arm to steady the display and leaned in for a better look. It was pretty much a jumble of names and numbers to him at first..until she pointed at the bit she wanted him to focus on.

..

[SSV Normandy SR2 - Docking Bay D24]

..

For a moment..just a second or so..as Scalia quaked and shifted against his grip..the sight boggled him completely.

Nothing made sense.

Where had this come from?

Not the data. He knew where **THAT** came from.. .._Citadel control_.. ..but he hadn't a clue what'd possessed Scalia to get a hold of it and bring it to him. Sure, she'd known he had an interest in the Normandy. He'd asked her to help find its last departure date. Of course she knew. But he hadn't asked her to track it for him.

Something wasn't adding up at all.

The incongruousness of the situation didn't hold Kolyat's attention for long though. After his infinitesimal pause of utter befuddlement, his mind actually processed what he was looking at and realisation hit him like a ton of bricks.

.._Shepard's back_..

Then came the adrenaline.

.._Oh_ _Kala-f$%king-**hira**, she's **back**!_ **_SHIT _**_I've gotta move!_

Quick as a wink, he shot back into his cubicle, diving for the pack he'd discarded beneath his desk hours back and flipping his terminal's kill switch. He then ushered Scalia, who was pretty much waxing lyrical with excitement by this point, out of his way, shouldered his bag and made a break for it.

He didn't get far.

"Now wait a minute!" Ollie yelled, rounding on the suddenly rushed Drell as he took off. "What's all this about Krios? You know I hate pulling rank on you, but I can't just let you bail out on your office hours."

"I've cleared a six hour window of leave with Commander Bailey" Kolyat explained hurriedly, waving his supervisor-come-partner off as he began to stand. "I'll be back this afternoon. You can ride me about it then, but right now I've got _no_ time."

Leaving the suspicious and scowling Turian to make a precautionary call to his superior, Kolyat turned and bolted. His mind was racing. Thoughts of what he'd tell the Commander when he saw her..how he'd approach her..what he'd say..and what he wouldn't..all clamoured for attention, and diverted his focus so completely from his surroundings that he only realised he was being followed when she who was tailing him spoke up.

"Come on!" Scalia laughed, keeping pace with him easily given how the winding cubicles and relatively tight quarters slowed him down, "If we hurry, we'll make it before too many people disembark!"

Kolyat almost tripped over himself at hearing her. "**_WE_**?" he demanded, glaring at his unwanted tagalong with a mixture of perturbed confusion and supreme discontent. "Aren't you on the clock?"

"I'm cashing in some overtime right now" she retorted briskly, dismissing his words without a second thought and ushering him forward when looking back at her made his pace drop off a bit. "Now hurry _up_! You don't want to miss Nick, right?"

"Nick?" he repeated, the memory of telling her his grand fib about having a serviceman-friend aboard the Normandy flashing across his mind as he frowned, puzzled. He drew breath to ask her why she was bringing him up at all, his relevance lost on him at first, but caught the words behind gritted teeth when everything that hadn't been adding up a couple of minutes ago came together in a nice, neat.._horrifyingly_ guilt-inducing equation.

He knew now why she'd tracked the Normandy.

She'd just told him herself.

So..he..didn't..miss..'Nick'.

By pure force of will alone, Kolyat, realising this, stopped himself from face-palming right there in the aisle. Of all the things he'd ever done that deserved censure, this one took the credit-chit. He had, without trying, managed to make Scalia - not his father, or some other person who frankly deserved having a wrench jammed into their works now and then - go out of her way to help him on the back of a bullshit story about someone who didn't exist. _Scalia_, who had never received anything but tolerance from him and had stuck around anyway; all smiles and warm vocalisations that made her jaw quiver and her chest sing.

Were it not for the need to keep moving so that he didn't miss his chance to speak with Shepard, Kolyat would have found himself a hole to crawl into and stayed there for the foreseeable future.

He felt dirty; sick to his stomach.

Not for lying per se. He wasn't above that, and had fibbed to Scalia in the past about little things; like not having a supply of Tupari in his desk draw for example. He did have one. He just didn't want to share it with her, addicted to the stuff as she seemed to be. It was a selfish thing, sure, but harmless.

But **_this_**..

His story about 'Nick' had appealed to her better nature and, true to that nature, she'd done what she could, illegal bits and all, to help him out. Whichever way he looked at it, what he'd managed to do here was nothing short of manipulation. Entirely inadvertent, unwanted manipulation, but manipulation nonetheless.

And that was his _father's_ game.

The wave of self-recrimination this fact brought with it would have left him brooding for days..were it not for the fact that Scalia, having heard him repeat the name of his supposed 'friend', was looking at him oddly.

Guilt aside, he'd need to speak up or his ruse would be uncovered.

"..yeah.." he said, his throat tight with the effort of sounding casual. He thought quickly, adding, "It'll be good to see him again..We'll have time to catch up now, I hope.." before doing the conversational equivalent of pulling across three lanes of traffic and asking, "So why are you coming, exactly?"

He'd hoped the jarring switch of focus would distract her from his mounting discomfort, and going on how she brightened it worked..but his relief was only temporary.

"You're joking, right?" she laughed, ushering at him again since his preoccupation with mentally debasing himself in the most acidic manner had slowed his pace another notch. "In case you haven't noticed, your friend serves on the same vessel as Commander Shepard! There's no way you're keeping me in the crowd for this one! Not after I found the ship! I **_have_** to come with you!"

At that, Kolyat's heart almost leapt out of his chest. With eight words.. 'Commander Shepard..I have to come with you' ..the situation had officially gone from mortifying and awkward, to verging on disastrous.

Suddenly, his entire _plan_ was in jeopardy.

Above all others, his main reason for keeping his intention to meet with the Commander private was so that he could make sure that their..acquaintance..would remain safely out of the hands of well-meaning gossips like Scalia. If she tagged along with him, not only would 'Nick' be outed as make-believe, but his relationship with Shepard would be revealed as well, and that..would be fucking **_catastrophic_**.

Every one of his greatest failings in life was tied, in some small way, to his knowing the Commander. And while he knew that Scalia finding out that he'd met her before was infinitely different from her finding out about those failings, he was sure that it would only take one slip of the tongue, after she knew, to send her digging.

It'd be something little.

Perhaps Bailey, without thinking, would joke, 'Yeah, the only reason I haven't fired his scaly ass is because Shepard got him his job'.

And that would be it.

She'd know there was more to it, and she'd question..and wheedle..and dig. Not because she was horrible or wanted dirt on him, but because she'd think that his knowing the Commander was nothing short of epic and would want to know more.

The hows, whys, when's and wherefores.

Bile rose in Kolyat's throat at the thought, but much as he wanted to protest and find some way of keeping that worst case scenario from happening, he didn't have a watertight way of stopping Scalia from coming with him.

Lying about his meeting with 'Nick' being private was out. She'd made it clear that Shepard was her focus, not his fictitious friend. With that in mind, saying she'd be impinging on his privacy when, in her mind, they'd be there to see completely different people would look absurdly suspicious.

Flat out telling her not to come wouldn't help either. She'd just argue with him, and he neither needed the stress that would cause, nor had the time to deal with her.

Distracting her and just legging it was an attractive option, but was also flawed. Never in his life had he met a person so keen on nursing grudges as Scalia, and icy glares and silence for the next six months wouldn't do his long-term calm any good at all. He had to work with the woman on a semi-daily basis after all.

In desperation, for a fleeting moment, he even considered telling her the truth..just coming out with it and saying, 'Scalia, forget Nick. I need to talk Commander Shepard out of taking my father to war with her'..but doing that would just make her ask questions.

He could hear them now.. ..

'What do you **_mean_** forget Nick?'

'How does your father know Commander Shepard?'

'Why does she want to take him to war?'

'What makes you think you could convince her not to take him?'

'Do you know her?'

'How?'

'Why?'

.. ..and wouldn't be able to answer them without, to varying extents, touching upon every one of the failings he was so intent on keeping from her.

From his lie about 'Nick'..

To the reason he left Kahje and travelled to the Citadel..

To his father's identity..and why he'd been estranged from him for a decade..

To the job..the contract..

To tracking Talid..

..and moving from the shadows, his gun raised..only to hear '**KOLYAT**!' bellowed by an unfamiliar someone..

Then..the apartment..

The hostage..

The gun..

..

The attempted murder.

..

..

Glancing down at Scalia as she nattered gleefully about the possibility of meeting Shepard, Kolyat had to swallow a sigh. She was the closest thing to a friend he had on the Citadel, and while her doggedness _really_ got on his wick on occasion, he had to admit that he was glad to have her around. In this world of faces that were either too plated, or so naked for plates that they looked more alien than the plated ones, it was..nice..to know someone that he could actually understand.

_Yet she doesn't know me_..he thought.._not really_.._How the hell would she look at me if she knew all of those things_?

_How would anyone?_

_I'd be shunned._

..

Caught between a rock and a hard place, Kolyat bit the bullet and drew two interrelated conclusions. The first was that, realistically, he couldn't stop her from coming with him. Trying would either make him look ridiculously suspicious, get him buried under a mountain of questions that he had no intention of answering, or earn him her wrath for an unknowable period, and none of those options were workable given his current need to rush and his disinclination for sleeping with an eye open.

And the second was that, since her tagging along would out 'Nick' as a fabrication, he could take her being pissed at him for lying to her on the chin. Hell, he _deserved_ to have her blow up at him for that.

With those parameters in place, he put together a plan of action. His real imperative was to keep Scalia from realising that he and Shepard knew each other, and though her being present while he was looking for her would make that difficult, it wouldn't make it impossible.

He didn't need to keep her away from the woman period, after all.

All he'd need to do was keep the fact that 'Nick' wasn't a real person quiet until he met the Commander, and make sure that when he did meet her, Scalia wasn't close enough to hear their reintroduction. That way, he could hide the fact that he had lied until it no longer mattered, disguise the fact that Shepard recognised him, and keep the nature of the business he had with her strictly between them.

His mind more or less settled, Kolyat steeled himself for what was looking to be an awfully fraught morning, and slipped through the door between admin-area and precinct; his unexpected tagalong shadowing him excitedly.

If he kept his cool..and played his cards right..this whole 'talking the Commander out of taking father to war' thing might actually work.

* * *

><p>True to EDI's prediction, it took Citadel Control close to thirty minutes to shuffle the Normandy into dock.<p>

It was [09:32] when they were finally squared away.

After spending a good portion of that time pacing like a caged tiger on the bridge, Shepard ordered herself a shuttle to Bachjret Ward and, laying her hands on Joker's shoulders before she headed for the airlock, spoke the sweetest words he'd heard her say this tour.

"Four days of shore leave for the entire crew, Mister Moreau. Effective immediately. Make it so."

That had been more than an hour back.

Now, as the Commander stepped off the shuttle and entered the muted shades of bluish-green light that illuminated Bachjret Ward's transit hub, her Omni-tool told her it was [10:45]. She had an hour and a half to find the shop she sought - _Bio-wares Interspecies Health Store_ it was called - and to procure what she needed before she'd have to make her way to Huerta to pick up Thane.

With the wave of adrenaline that thought caused quickening her steps, Shepard ducked out of the way of the crowds of people jostling to board the shuttles as they came in, leant herself against one of the numerous broad pillars that demarcated the edge of the hub's main thoroughfare, and activated her Omni-tool's local maps program. She maximised the user interface as a crisp map of the area flickered into being and, not wanting to waste what time she had for her outing searching the display manually, opened up the 'Plan route' utility and input both her location, and the name of the shop she was looking for.

After a click of the [Enter] key, a glowing line displaying the most direct path was superimposed onto the map, and Shepard stood up from her spot against the pillar to follow it. "Left out of the transport hub" she murmured as she got underway, "then take the second right..cross the plaza..and it's the first shop on the right. I got this."

* * *

><p>Sitting comfortably in one of the numerous chairs in the Patient Lounge at Huerta Memorial, Karin Chakwas let out a slow, contented breath as she gazed out at the beautiful vista she could see through the window opposite her. She'd bid a momentary good day to Doctor Pyral about ten minutes back..the man having promised to rejoin her after dropping in to check on one of his patients..and was looking to enjoy an early lunch break before continuing her orientation morning in half an hour or so's time.<p>

Eager to refuel after a thoroughly enjoyable yet mentally taxing morning, Karin turned her attention to the small lunch she'd brought from the hospital's canteen. On a paper wrapper in her lap sat a newly unwrapped pair of sandwiches; one salad, and the other cheese and pickle. Where Huerta procured its provisions from was beyond her but, eyeing her purchases briefly and deciding that both were delicious-looking, she put supply-lines out of her mind and went about enjoying her meal as she looked back over the day she'd had so far.

Thanks to the Citadel's rapid transit system she'd reached the hospital by [09:45] and, after receiving the slightly disappointing news that Thane was in the midst of a consultation with his GP and therefore unavailable for the warm greeting she'd wanted to give him, had spent the past hour and a quarter being schooled on his treatments by four of his eight physicians. It had been one heck of a steep learning curve for her, but she was confident that she could continue to provide the fine care they'd given him when he rejoined the Normandy.

For all the complexity that surrounded how they had made him well, the regime he was on now was remarkably simple. Two injections, given nightly, and a combination of oral vitamins and antibiotics were his lot.

And this for a man who, when she last saw him, was dying. _Dying_!

Shaking her head slowly, she took the first bite of her lunch, closed her eyes and smiled helplessly. She'd never been much of a one for miracles. Being a military doctor beat that propensity out of all but the most optimistic. But this..

..

Let's just say she had some choice words for one Mordin Solus.

..

..

As Chakwas wondered on the possibility of putting the Professor forward for the Salarian equivalent of the Nobel Prize in medicine, a certain soon to be ex-patient of her immediate acquaintance was making his way towards the Patient Lounge in the company of his chief physician. The man had come by his room a few moments ago, wondering if he would like to assist him in giving their mutual friend a distinctly pleasant surprise, and Thane had grasped at the chance with both hands.

Not only would it allow him to make up for missing her arrival thanks to an awkwardly timed appointment, but it would also help take his mind off of the fact that, despite having had a rigorously active morning by all accounts, time seemed to be passing for everyone but him today.

It didn't matter what he occupied himself with: not breakfast..final appointments with two of his multifarious physicians..his morning walk..stripping his bed, or getting much of his packing done had helped even one iota.

Time, fickle creature that she was, simply wasn't on his side at present.

And he knew _why_.

He was waiting for the moment he would leave the hospital with his Siha.

In a **_very_** small, entirely harmless way, the feeling he had now..the..aching limbo of just waiting..just 'being'..was akin to being disconnected. His body was in the present, going through the motions and doing what it needed to, while his soul..and his heart..were waiting ahead of him with Amial.

The thought consumed him even now.

Even with the greatly welcome news of Doctor Chakwas's presence, and the prospect of aiding Doctor Pyral's plan to give her a pleasing surprise, he was divided. He was 'here' bodily; more than willing and eager to see his former, and soon to be present physician. But his soul just wanted time to pass on.

He could see the doctor later, it whispered, after his Siha returned, as she promised she would, and made him Whole again.

Despite his inner discord however, Thane was unwilling to allow himself to dwell on things he could do nothing to speed. He knew, going on the lack of uproar and the fact that she hadn't come to see him, that his mate was not at the hospital presently, and he refused to squander the time he could now spend with the good doctor by selfishly locking himself away to clock-watch between bouts of solipsism. It would be unforgivably remiss of him, and indeed shallow to a degree he balked at contemplating, to disrespect her in that manner. He owed her his life after all, and had a wonder he wanted to put to her.

When Doctor Pyral sat with him yesterday evening to go through the tentative itinerary he and Chakwas had put together for today, he gave [13:30] as a tentative point by which the morning's busy rush of examinations and meetings would be over. With that in mind Thane had wanted, this morning when he spoke briefly with his Siha via the AICS, to suggest that they meet at the hospital at that time, but had faltered when his zealous caution in using extranet-based communication systems got the better of him. He left the conversation after agreeing only that she would come for him. He had no idea when.

This, he would put to the doctor.

After a couple of minutes spent traversing the halls, Thane and his counterpart entered the Patient Lounge. Looking around, they couldn't but agree that calling the place 'packed' would have been as big an understatement as calling Kahje 'damp', but for all the people going about their business..be they visitors, patients, or refugees..the atmosphere was surprisingly calm. There was no shouting..no wailing..just quiet voices, many native tongues, and a lot of helping hands.

Sending silent thanks to Arashu for that small mercy, Thane glanced around the room in search of the lady he had come to see, only to have Doctor Pyral point the way. "There she is.." he said, a slender arm extended towards the seats by the windows. Looking over, Thane located her without trouble. Amid the crowds of Asari, Turians and Salarians that hurried through the room, she stood out like a silver-haired sore thumb.

"Go on now.." Pyral prompted, "she's been desperate to see you all morning. How long has it been since you last saw her? Six months?"

"I believe it's closer to eight now..thank you, Doctor" Thane replied, frowning faintly at the thought of how much time had passed between then and now. "Will you be staying out here?" he asked, "I'm sure she would like to thank you for orchestrating her surprise."

"Perhaps for a moment, yes.." Pyral said, giving a measured nod. "I know how you value your privacy, Sere, so I won't linger for long. Besides, I need to get back and make sure the rest of her instruction is ready for after her lunch break. She's a keen study. You'll be in fine hands with her."

"I've no doubt of that" Thane agreed, asking then, "Will I see you before I depart?"

Pyral smiled, mimicking him with kind purposefulness. "I have no doubt of that."

Giving a soft chuckle as his doctor settled against the wall to watch the proceedings, Thane turned his attention to the lady by the window. Looking upon her now, he felt his lingering unease about the day and its passing ease considerably. What she, Karin Chakwas, represented in this moment.. ..his freedom..his ability to leave the hospital _today_.. ..outweighed even the biting lack of Ami's presence.

And for that.._Goddess_ was she a welcome sight.

Crowded as the Lounge was, he was able, and indeed needed, to get quite close to her before propriety dictated the need for a spoken greeting. Mindful of the fact that she appeared to be eating and was therefore not best equipped to deal with a shock, he picked his moment carefully.

"..Doctor.."

Karin, hearing the word, quickly swallowed her mouthful of cheese and pickle sandwich, looked around..gasped..and stared, absolutely thunderstruck by what she saw. Not six feet from her stood the Drell who had occupied her thoughts for at least a minute daily since he left the Normandy..and in that formative instant..in the seconds after he called to her..she was bowled over by how damn **WELL** he looked.

When last she'd seen him, he had been quite literally at death's door. Pale..sickly..hardly strong enough to stand without gasping for breath with the effort..wracked with pain..but now..here he was..standing straight as an arrow..his hands folded at his back..shoulders firm and set.

For Karin, it was as if she'd never actually met the man before now. Even in the months prior to his health becoming critical, he hadn't looked like _this_. His eyes, once lifeless and exhausted, their lids grey-pink with lack of oxygen, where now attentive and jet black in turns. His scales were the same, as were the pleats on his cheeks and throat. Where once they were dull sickly greens and almost pink respectively, they were now suffused with colour and rich; so much so that she would have bet a credit that she'd take some of that colour away with her on her fingers if she touched him. His presence was almost palpable, and even at this distance..he looked so alive..so vital..that she found it hard to believe that he had ever been the man she remembered from the medical bay.

Her disbelief came out in words..soft ones..spoken on the tail-end of a splutter of shock. "..Well I'll be God _damned_.." she managed, moving her lunch from her lap and wobbling to her feet, her knees feeling a hint unsteady at his sudden arrival.

Thane gave his most affecting smile as she rose and approached him, relaxing his stance slightly into something a hint more welcoming than regimented stillness. "It is good to see you again" he said as she made it around the edge of her chair and came towards him. "You have been well, I hope?"

"..I've been..fine, I.." Karin tried, shaking her head and pursing her lips at his politeness and knowing smile. "Ohh never mind about _me_" she breathed, opening her arms slightly as she came near. "_Look_ at you! I'd never thought I'd see the day that you'd be well.."

"I have you, in part, to thank for that" Thane replied, dipping his head modestly as the doctor appraised him.

Tsk'ing softly, she waved off the compliment and said, "There's no need to thank me for doing my job dear.." before gathering herself and laying a hand on each of his forearms. She knew the man wasn't the most tactile when it came to acquaintances, and didn't want to overreach herself in her excitement at seeing him again. He seemed content with her touch however, and repaid it lightly upon her elbows as he spoke to gently correct her.

"No..there is _every_ need" he said, his earnestness clear, "I only hope, through the life I may now live, that I prove to you my gratitude. The words 'thank you' ring so very hollow in circumstances like this..don't you agree?"

Inordinately touched by the unusually verbose turn her stoic friend had taken, Karin had to pause briefly to collect herself. During her time as Thane's doctor, 'circumstances like this' were quite literally impossible to foresee. She'd hoped of course..more for Shepard's sake than her own..but had never foreseen, thought or even speculated that one day they'd be standing _here_, talking like this.

Managing a slightly tremulous smile, she replied, "Seeing you well is all the thanks I need, Thane. Truly" and gave his arms a gentle squeeze as he searched her face intently. She could tell by the intensity of his gaze that he wanted to pursue the matter further, but after a contemplative moment - her slight waver preoccupying him - he decided against it. Instead, he spoke an understanding, "As you say.." before consciously warming his expression and taking a careful half-step back.

"Come.." he prompted, turning her slightly and gesturing to her place by the windows, "I won't have you losing your seat on my account. Let us settle. We have a great deal to catch up on, you and I."

Grateful for both her companion's tact, and his skill at reading human emotional cues, Karin smiled. "That we do.." she agreed, happily allowing him to guide her back to the place she'd commandeered for her break. Once they were sitting comfortably..Karin back in her seat and Thane in that on her immediate right..he gave the crowds milling around them a quick glance as she tided her half-finished cheese and pickle sandwich away so they could speak without being distracted by its scent. It didn't bother her, but she knew her Drellish friend had less than no love for cheese..it and milk being entirely foreign to his people..and had no intention of making him uncomfortable.

When he returned his attention to her after the room passed muster, she smiled affectionately and asked, "Always watchful, Sere?"

Thane had the good grace to look a hint abashed. "Naturally" he replied, shifting around in his seat so that he could face her and keep the rest of the room in his peripheral vision. Never in his adult life had he been comfortable having his back to a crowded area, and in their current position, had he not turned, that discomforting circumstance would have been his reality.

"I was looking for Doctor Pyral" he explained, keeping the true reason for his slight positional adjustment to himself so he didn't risk making his counterpart somehow uneasy, "but he seems to have taken his leave."

Puzzled, Karin frowned. "Taken his leave?" she said, "I didn't realise he'd come back. He told me that he.." she frowned for a moment, "..was going to see a patient.." then gaped and laughed when Thane raised his brows and tilted his head a degree or so to the right.

"He went to get you?" she asked, giving a delighted smile when Thane nodded. "Oh that dear man..and _you_!" she enthused, reaching for him again and laying a hand upon his arm. "Thank you for coming out. You've made my day."

"As you have mine" he replied, "This day could not have come fast enough, I assure you." He took another casual glance around then and, sensing an opportunity, broached the topic he'd wanted to bring up all morning.

His Siha and her plans for the day.

He had to be careful though. Asking personal questions about a well known public figure like 'Shepard' would draw masses of unwanted attention, particularly given how crowded the room was currently. With caution in mind, he said, "On the topic of dear ones Doctor, I must ask, is Amial well?" and was gratified when Karin, wrong-footed by his use of his mate's first name as opposed to her well-known second, actually repeated it curiously before she realised who he was talking about.

His privacy-preservation technique had worked like a charm.

"Oh she's fine!" she chuckled, touching a hand to her forehead in a mocking commentary on her slip. "You know, I haven't heard that name in months. Yes, she's fine. Off shopping at the moment in fact."

At that, it was Thane's turn to chuckle. "Shopping?" he said, affecting disbelief, "Amial? You jest. She hasn't the patience."

"Ohh, you'd be surprised what a little inspiration can do to a person" Karin replied, the air of mystery carried by her words intriguing her Drellish friend greatly. Of the cacophony of questions he could have asked however..'Where is she?'..'What is she looking to buy?'..'For whom?'..he chose his moment and presented the wonder he'd been nursing since his conversation with his Siha earlier in the day.

"Do you know when she intends to return?" he asked, adding, "She assured me that she would help me pack" to ensure that the doctor understood that he was asking about when his mate planned to come to the hospital, not when she would return to the Normandy.

Karin, having had some experience of his double-speak and meaning-by-implication during his stays in the medical bay, caught his meaning without bother. Well aware as she was of her companion's need for privacy, she gave replying with an implication of her own a try. "I gave her the same time that Doctor Pyral agreed with me as our rough rounding-up time" she said, pausing then to watch his face briefly before asking, "Do you know it?"

Hearing this, understanding came instantaneously.

It was [13:30].

"I do" he replied, masking the intensity of the excitement that lit through him at hearing of his love's intended arrival time as best he could. "That is..a greatly pleasing thing to hear."

The forced modesty peppering his words didn't fool Karin in the least.

"She feels just the same about that Sere, believe me" she replied, returning the minute nod and whisper of a smile he gave her before easing onto less..personal topics. "Until then though, have you any plans? Are you all packed?"

"No, and yes" he replied, taking each question in turn. While the fact sat poorly with him, he was glad to move away from the topics of his mate and her arrival now that his wonder about them had been answered. He could feel himself beginning to pine for her, and had no intention of allowing himself to do that. It, much like lingering on memories of human philosophers and their thoughts on loneliness, would only serve to make him feel worse.

Intent on distancing himself from those negative feelings, and on spending more time in Karin's company in the process, he brooked, "My morning is empty of commitments now.." before gesturing to the re-wrapped lunch sitting neatly by her side in the hope of segueing towards the possibility of having his with her, "but I may follow your example and take a meal soon." Tilting his head a polite fraction to the right then, he offered, "If there is anything more you would like with yours, I would happily fetch it for you."

"Oh you're too kind" Karin smiled, "but there's no need to go out of your way.."

"I insist" he pressed courteously. "You have, after all, come to deliver me from this place. An addition to your lunch..and perhaps a little company..are the least I can offer in gratitude."

"Well I..when you put it that way, how can I refuse" she chuckled. Recalling then the slight issue Thane had with certain foods, she added, "Please though Sere, pick something for me that you'd like to try as well. And if there's nothing you fancy, consider the offer held for a time when there is."

Thane paused a moment, considering her words. Wondering on what might be an appropriate procurement.

Something he would choose for her..that he too could try..

A memory came then..of a sight..and intrigue..

- 'That looks delicious' I say, peering at the screen for a better look at the object cupped in my Siha's palm..clasped by her fingers..short nails against green skin..Foolishly, I envy it for its luck in being near her.-

..and he knew what he would pick.

"Tell me Doctor" he asked curiously, "do you like apples?"

* * *

><p><em>Bio-wares Interspecies Health Store<em> sat on the edge of Bachjret Ward's commercial district. It was a large establishment, that had been founded by an entrepreneurial group of Hanar and Drell with two aims in mind: opening up Kahjean culture to the rest of the galaxy, and providing support, supplies and advice for denizens of the ocean-planet who found themselves on the Citadel.

In pursuing their first aim, the group decided before the shop had even been opened that, funds permitting, it would eventually cater for every space-faring species in the galaxy. Beginning with the Hanar and the Drell..so that their second aim might be realised..a reputation for excellence was fostered, and over the five decades since its opening the shop was expanded to include sections devoted to the Asari, the Turians, the Volus, and the Salarians.

The next potential expansion was tabled to include Humans into the already eclectic mix, but with the climate of unrest that pervaded after the Geth attack, those plans had been put on indefinite hold.

Strolling through the open front doors of this bastion of integration and wellbeing, Shepard found the store to be spacious and warmly lit. Each species-specific section had its own dedicated decor and attendants, and the air carried the faint scent of spices and herbs that were common to some races, yet unknown to others. To a human nose there were whispers of wicker, sandalwood, and clove, along with a hint of something that reminded her of burnt sugar.

It was an odd mix, certainly, but it wasn't at all unpleasant.

As she worked her way along the well signposted aisles to the 'Drell' section of the shop's open-plan interior, Shepard took her list from her pocket and read through it carefully. She'd need a mission brief if she was going to do this shopping thing properly, unfamiliar with Drellish buying habits as she was, and Doctor Chakwas had been kind enough to provide one.

Sort of.

..

1) Vitamin supplements - protein and calcium particularly. A multi-vit perhaps?

_Doable, _she thought. _At least I recognise that entry.._

2) Bathing materials

_Less sure here.._

a) A sand heater

b) Sand

_Definitely less sure here.._

c) Towels

d) A bathing mat

e) Sloughing brushes

**_What-ing_**_ brushes?_

3) Any good protein-based foodstuffs you can find that won't spoil quickly

_Well that one's helpful.._

4) Tea

_And that one's a given.._

..

_Right.._

Turning her attention from her list, Shepard looked around quickly to make sure she'd made it to the correct area of the store..found that she had thanks to the 'Welcome to the Drellish section' sign that hung nearby..took a good look around, her mind open and curious..and promptly fell victim to a massive case of culture-shock-induced disorientation.

Everywhere she looked she saw Drellish _things_..

Items on shelves..

Writing on labels and signs beside the standard Basic text..

Displays showing off the finest items on offer..

The array was staggering.

Colour was everywhere..From boxes on a display behind her, to mats on one to her left, to the items on the shelves on the back wall..

It was all vibrant.

All rich.

And if she listened hard..she could even hear the faintest whisper of music playing that she hadn't detected elsewhere in the store.

She was suffused..

..

And for all she was utterly lost amid it all, and _desperately_ wished that Thane was with her so she wouldn't feel quite so..intimidated..by all of the newness around her, she was enthralled.

It was all she could do not to ditch her list and just _rummage_ like her life depended on it.

Everything was interesting, especially the things she couldn't quite get her head around. The shelf to her immediate right for example contained a diverse selection of brushes. Short bristled..long bristled..hard..soft..ones that sat in the palm..ones that were held as a hairbrush would be..fingers curled around the handle..the bristles on one end..

She touched each..unable to help herself..rubbed the bristles between her fingers..but hadn't a clue what they were for. She knew what they _were_ of course..a brush is a brush no matter the culture..and she knew what _she_ could do with them..but what use a Drell might have for such a thing was beyond her.

They certainly weren't for _hair_, that's for sure.

Forcibly distancing herself from the shelves and their contents before she wandered off and made herself late for her 'appointment' at Huerta, Shepard reviewed her list quickly..

_..Vitamins..right..I can do that.._

..and took a slow stroll around the area in order to locate the items she was after. Like the entire store, the 'Drell' section was an open place - a couple of aisles-worth of shelving giving way to a spacious area dotted by display tables - and it didn't take the Commander long, in view of how well it was signposted, to find what she was looking for and summarily check off the first item on her list.

The next though..

'2) Bathing materials'

..she'd known as soon as she saw it that it would give her trouble.

Unlike the vitamin bit, she barely had the first clue about Drellish bathing habits. The cheeky little aside she'd given Thane when they'd spoken about his want for a proper bath was her limit. Outside of that, she was lost. Swimming in questions.

Were there different types of sand she should know about?

What if she got the wrong kind?

_Were_ there wrong kinds?

What did a sand heater look like?

For that matter, what did a bathing mat look like?

How was it different to a regular non-bathing-type-mat?

Was it?

She was so preoccupied with being puzzled that she didn't realise she'd been standing in place staring at her shopping list until an unfamiliar voice spoke a kind, slightly rumbly,

"Excuse me?"

Jerked from her thoughts, Shepard looked in the direction it came from, caught the eyes of the person who'd spoken, and stopped herself a whisker shy of doing a double take.

"Can I help you ma'm?" the person asked, stepping a bit closer and favouring the Commander with a warm smile. "You've been lingering here for a few minutes now. I was wondering if you needed assistance."

"Err..I'm..Yes, actually" Shepard managed indelicately, trying to hide the fact that the sight of the newly arrived attendant had consumed her interest completely. Standing before her was a young lady wearing the _Bio-wares _employee uniform.. ..brown shirt..black trousers and shoes..blue apron..affecting expression.. ..who also happened to be Drellish.

She..and she certainly was a 'she' despite the fact that, because of her reptilian heritage, she lacked the most obvious outward indications of mammalian femininity..was a slight looking woman. She couldn't have been taller than 5'5, had scales the colour of a coffee with just a splash of milk added to it, and a smile that warmed her inkblot eyes up noticeably. Slight of frill and with a delicate chin, she watched Shepard watch her with what looked to be genuine curiosity behind the store-front manner she used for work.

Now usually the Commander's assessment of a person's appearance would stop there..but this..this meeting was just a little bit special. Besides the Asari it was damn rare to see a female non-human, and to meet one who was also a member of perhaps the rarest race in the space-faring galaxy?

Well. That just called for attention right there.

She couldn't pay all that attention while staring the poor woman out however, so she snapped herself out of her stupor and got back to talking.

"I've come shopping for a friend of mine" she explained, minding her words so that she could keep said friend's identity and her actual relationship to him out of the spotlight. "He's getting out of hospital today, and needed someone to fetch a few essentials for his place."

"Oh I see.." the attendant said, tilting her head as she regarded her customer inquisitively. "He is Drellish, yes?" she asked, making sure she understood the situation before she sought to give advice or help with purchases.

"That he is" Shepard replied. "I've got this list here..but..honestly.." she gave a little self-deprecating chuckle as she showed the slip of paper to the coffee-scaled woman, "after the first item on there, I don't even know where to start."

"Well, we can fix that now" she said welcomingly, reading through the list and committing it to memory with brisk and practiced efficiency. She nodded when she was finished, and smiled as her customer, knowing she wouldn't be needing it again, slipped it back into her inside pocket. "We'll start from where you got stuck, and I'll explain things as necessary" she went on, chuckling genially as she added, "We can't have you wandering lost, now can we?"

Shepard gave a relieved huff. "No, I don't suppose that'd do much for my reputation" she agreed easily, following her assistant as she guided her further into the 'Drell' section of the store. "Much obliged for the help."

"It's no trouble ma'm" she smiled, "If you have questions, ask them. It's what I'm here for. Oh.." she tapped the little Drellish-to-Basic nametag affixed to her apron, "I'm Kehksi, by the way."

"Shepard" the Commander replied reflexively, though by the way her helper was grinning at her the introduction was unnecessary. She added a cordial, "Nice to meet you.." but had to pause when the woman's name stuck in her throat.

It wasn't that it was difficult to pronounce. Having heard her say it.. ..'Kek-see'.. ..it would take little effort for Shepard to carefully mimic. What got to her was the fact that she _knew_ the name. She'd read it once before, when Doctor Chakwas gave her that lovely glossy Drellish magazine called Laksha.

Kehksi was the name of the writer of the romance column.

As she walked along beside the woman, fascinated by how the soft brown pleating on her cheeks and throat seemed to lead right into the dappled mochas of her scales, the want to ask her if she was _that_ Kehksi was strong. Commonsense kept her quiet though. Asking such a thing would likely draw the woman to conclude, not only that she knew about the magazine, but that she had a reason to read through the section she wrote in it too. That assumption could easily lead to much less mundane ones.. ..ones that were infinitely closer to the truth.. ..and that just wasn't something the Commander had the patience to deal with at present.

Much as inter-species relations were nothing new to the galaxy, now was hardly the time or place for her connection to Thane to become public knowledge. She didn't need a press field day occurring thanks to a slip of the tongue.

A cool-fingered touch to her wrist brought her from her contemplations, and she drew to a stop beside her assistant.

.._Kehksi_.._Kehksi_.._Kek-see_.._gotta get that name right_..

"Here we are ma'm" the Drellish lady smiled, gesturing to a well-appointed display of items that covered both an appreciable section of the back wall, and a cloth-covered demonstration table that stood before them. At first glance at least, the objects on show appeared to be Tajine - deep terracotta bowls with conical lids, that stood on slender legs.

While Shepard squinted slightly with concentration as she puzzled over the array, Kehksi began to explain quite what it was she was looking at. "These are sand heaters" she said, indicating the one that sat closest to them on the demonstration table. It was wide and deep-set, just like its cousins on the shelves nearby, and looked to have been varnished or glazed a rich reddish black. "They're used, as the name implies, to warm the sand we use to bathe."

"I see" the Commander mused, tapping her nails against the heater's lid appraisingly. "So..treat me like a tourist here. How do they work exactly?"

Kehksi grinned, lifting the lid carefully away and setting it aside so she could demonstrate. "The sand is ladled into here with one of these.." she began, gathering up a wooden ladle that was set out, along with a couple of similar tools, beside the heater, "and is spread evenly to ensure that it's heated thoroughly. The heating element is built into the base here.." she tapped the bottom of the bowl lightly with her knuckles, "and the legs.." then touched each of the four tapered legs the heater stood on, "stop it from marring the surface it's put on."

"Clever.." Shepard said, watching her assistant's careful fingers as she explained. "And the lid's to help the sand warm up, right? To keep the heat in?"

"That's right ma'm" the Drellish lady confirmed, sitting the ladle back in its proper place while the Commander nodded, pleased at having made a correct deduction.

"Outstanding..Right..I've got it so far" she noted, glancing around at the display. Puffing out a breath then, she looked at her helper hopefully. "Any suggestions on which is best for a gentleman Drell who's just got out of the hospital?"

Kehksi was thoughtful for a moment, her fingertips set to rubbing her jaw as she considered her answer. "They'll all do the job well ma'm" she advised. "It mostly depends on how many functions the buyer wants, and on their taste in aesthetics. Some of these..this one for example.." she tapped the reddish-black heater that sat on the table before them, "can be set very precisely. On this model, the temperature can be set within a tenth of a degree. There's also a timer..an automatic 'off' switch..a favourites utility that lets the user save their preferred settings..I could go on all day.."

At the word 'functions', Shepard grinned knowingly. "The rule of thumb with the buddy I'm buying for is, the more he has to fiddle with it the better. So..I think I'll take one of these ones.." she said, pointing to the heater on the display table, "but maybe in matte black? I don't think this one would agree with his eyes too well. He's had the.."

"The treatment that allows us to pick up the Hanars' higher frequencies" Kehksi put in, nodding her understanding, "Yes, most Drell have." A couple of clicks on her Omni-tool later, she proclaimed, "Matte black is no problem ma'm. We'll ship your purchases when you're finished here today. All right..that's the heater done.." she paused fractionally, recalled the Commander's list from memory, then prompted, "..sand's up next."

"You know, I meant to ask" Shepard said as she followed her assistant over to another display close by. This one was oval-shaped, and had upon it the widest variety of sand types she had ever seen. They came in clear tubs of varying sizes and, upon closer inspection, appeared to be arranged by order of fineness; the most fine variety - so white it resembled triple-milled sugar - sitting beside the next..and the next..and so on and so forth. She gestured to the panoply as she asked, "..and this is another really touristy question, but why sand? Does water not do the job or..?"

"It works well in practical terms" Kehksi replied, making sure the display was still neat and tidy as she explained, "and is fine for an occasional wash down, so long as we can dry off thoroughly. But our scales aren't particularly absorbent, and bacterial infections are easily caught. Especially during the molt."

At that last word there..'molt'..Shepard perked up. She remembered it from her introduction to Laksha.

_What was the article's name again?_ she wondered, _'Surviving the molt' or something?_

She'd been curious when she saw it, having no idea what a 'molt' was, and since she had the chance to bring it up in knowledgeable company now, she couldn't not enquire. "Sorry.." she said, feeling a hint bashful at having to ask, "..but what's a 'molt'?"

For a moment, Kehksi looked slightly taken aback by the question. Since the customers she dealt with were usually Drell themselves, it simply wasn't something that had to be asked. To her, and her people, it was just known of. "It's the shedding of scales, ma'm" she explained. "The old layer making way for the new."

"Ohh _right_" Shepard replied, nodding quickly and feeling more than a bit dense at having missed such a pivotal piece of intel about her mate's people. "It sounds similar to how humans lose hair and skin flakes.." she added, hoping the comparison wasn't somehow offensive.

The attentive nod she got in response allayed her fears.

"The Drellish molt isn't constant in the way human shedding is" Kehksi noted, "but yes, it's similar otherwise. As we get older, the period between molts gets longer, since we're not growing into our scales anymore. A healthy adult Drell usually goes through one every six months, give or take, though sickness and severe stress can cause problems."

Mentally tripping over the word 'sickness'..its relevance to her beau's recent situation obvious..Shepard pressed, "Would my friend be..I mean since he's been so ill.."

Kehksi smiled slightly, warmed by how thorough the Commander was being in her effort to be helpful. "If he has had problems ma'm, his doctor would have seen to them for him. Trouble shedding is the most common ailment Drell who have had a protracted illness encounter as they begin to get better. The best treatment, honestly, is access to hot towels, a stress free environment, a sand heater and.." she gestured grandly to the display before them, "a selection of grains so they can bathe as they need to."

"And we were getting to that" Shepard said, contrite, "before I interrupted you earlier. Please, go on. I'm all ears."

"It's quite fine ma'm" Kehksi replied, "I understand your curiosity. Now, as you can probably tell just by looking at this lot, sand comes in more varieties than most races have names for. Each kind has uses to which it's especially well suited. Softer ones, like this one here.." she picked up a tub containing a finely milled blend..its contents just off-white and powdery..and showed it to Shepard, "are best for the very young, and for people who have just shed. They're gentler, you see. Less abrasive."

"That makes sense.." she nodded, observing the tub and its contents carefully. Curious then, she reached across the display and selected one that contained the closest thing she could find to the soft blend's antithesis. The grains within it were almost entirely greyish-silver, and looked more like tiny wet pebbles than sand at all. "What about this one?" she asked, tapping the tub she held gently.

"That would be especially helpful during a molt, when you're trying to slough away old scales" Kehksi explained, sitting her example back with its fellows and gesturing to the display as a whole once more. "As a rule, the more coarse the blend, the more useful it will be in that regard."

"I see.." the Commander murmured, returning her tub to its proper place and going out on a limb with an _almost_ educated guess. "So do you just...heat it up and rub it onto the skin..er..scales? Or...?"

"That's one way of doing it, certainly" Kehksi grinned, flashing her palms briefly to ask for a moment and hurrying to a nearby aisle. She returned holding what looked like a small flannel pouch, and held it out for her intrigued patron to examine. "There're also these. We call them 'rough bags'. They open at one end, like so.." she explained, teasing the drawstring that pinched the top end of the pouch closed loose, "and are filled with whatever kind of sand the user wants. You then close it, and can either put it in the sand heater to warm up or, if you've already heated the sand, use it right away. The material is porous enough that the sand is worked through as the bather uses the bag."

Sensing a workable comparison, Shepard tried, "A bit like a sponge, right?"

"That's right ma'm" Kehksi confirmed, demonstrating by rubbing the exposed scales on her forearm with the rough bag. "They're really effective during a molt. These and sloughing brushes..soft-hair brushes that help with removing shed scales..are the top sellers for personal hygiene and grooming. Personalised sets can make great gifts too."

"I'll bet" the Commander grinned, pausing to contemplate whether her mate would appreciate such a thing as her helper returned the bag to its shelf. She knew he had a distinct fondness for tactile pursuits, and all this talk of sand and rough bags and warmth and brushes certainly fit _that_ bill. He'd said too, when they spoke using the AICS a couple of days back, that he wanted a Drellish bath when he got home..and now that she had an idea of what such a bath entailed..she could understand why.

With all the new information she had at her disposal, her imagination ran wild.

.._he'd be sitting or kneeling..perhaps on a towel or a mat to keep the sand off the floor..the heater to one side..open and full, its contents warmed to his liking..then..he'd scoop up the rough bag from where it was warming up inside the heater in his right hand..set it to his left shoulder..and squeeze..slowly..a little of the sand within it escapes..and wisps along the contours of a muscular, powerful back_..

.._and we're stopping that train of thought **right** there, thank you_..

Catching her assistant's eyes as she returned, her cheeks gladly none the warmer for her brief foray into desirous territory, Shepard smiled. "Now, I want my friend to feel like a king when he gets home later today" she said, watching the Drellish lady nod diligently as she listened. "With all the hell he's been through recently, he deserves some serious downtime..so..can we make up something like 'the perfect bath kit for the recuperating Drell' or something? Last time we talked he told me that he's desperate for a proper one, and I want to make that happen for him."

"That's a lovely thought, ma'm" Kehksi smiled. "We sell gift packages just like that for a wide range of occasions, bath time included. We could make one up by hand now if you like. Fetching a box won't take a minute."

"Sounds great" Shepard nodded, watching as her helper hurried off to find the box they were to use. Smiling to herself as she glanced around, she had to admit that this shopping lark felt a lot less intimidating now. It was actually..and she'd never speak this aloud..but it was actually.._fun_.

* * *

><p>By the time Shepard and Kehksi had ticked off each of the things on the Commander's list, it was [11:43]. Along with the prescribed items, she came away with a selection of scale-oils that were apparently the Drellish equivalent of shower gel..various pots of what looked like large grains of rice but translated as something like 'mealworms' (a protein-rich foodstuff that Kehksi assured her would delight her 'friend' and be the basis of numerous meals)..a box of four stress balls that she had machinations of learning to juggle with..and finally, a small purple wristband that she got in return for making a sizeable donation to the <em>Laksha - Fighting Keprals<em> charity, as advertised on the donation box at the checkout.

She hadn't even realised such a thing existed before today, and had such an emotional connection to what the charity was working towards..an eventual cure for the Syndrome that affected, according to Kehksi, one in seven Drell..that signing over five thousand credits from her personal account just sort of..happened.

Large as the sum was, she was content letting it go. She had more than enough savings to cover a one off donation of that size, and even if she hadn't..even if it would have been a stretch..she'd have done it regardless. It was a **DAMN** good cause, and she'd gleaned such an absurd amount of pleasure from making up a little cipher so that the donation could be made anonymously, that the expense didn't even register in her mind.

_AK_ she'd written on the transfer of funds form.

Short, simple and to the point.

The thinking behind it was this. Were she to sign her name, she'd write, '_A Shepard_'. Read literally that signature could convey two things. Firstly, that she was a Shepard, as in one of the family Shepard. And secondly that, just like her father had been with his identical first initial, she was liable to be ribbed 'til the day she died about being 'a shepherd'; a leader.

It was the first literal reading that inspired her here.

If she could be a Shepard, why couldn't Thane, in whose honour she was making the donation in the first place, be referred to as a Krios? For he was, literally, a Krios. One of the family Krios.

It was perfect..fitting..but conspicuous if written out fully.

Thus, she shortened it to its initials.

_AK_.

She liked that. It had...weight.

As she left the store, waving a polite goodbye to an ebullient Kehksi, she checked the time on her Omni-tool.

[11:50] it read.

Since she wasn't expected at Huerta until around [13:30] or so, she had plenty of time for a quick between-times trip back to the Normandy to freshen up before taking the express elevator from Docking Bay D24 up to the hospital.

Her mind made up, she retraced her steps to the transport hub, hoping that her orders would make it back to the ship before she brought Thane home. It'd taken some quick thinking on her part to invent a plausible cover for why she wanted them sent there and not to her 'friend's' address, but with a little lie of the white kind..'He's being released this evening and I want to get everything ready for him beforehand'..the delivery was secured.

Her story wasn't entirely false either. She _did_ want to get their room ready for him in his absence..to make it as convivial as possible..and having her purchases to hand would really help with the 'welcome home' feel she wanted to put across.

_There aren't even two hours to go now_, she thought, sucking in a breath to try and calm the explosion of butterflies that fact caused in her belly. _Two hours..and I can finally go to him_..

Hiking up her jacket's collar, she slipped her hands into her pockets, tamped down on her excitement as best she could, and focused on her destination.

_One step at a time._

_Come on woman._

_Just a bit longer._

* * *

><p>With a disconcerted grumble, Kolyat closed his Omni-tool's user interface, propped himself up against the wall just outside of Docking Bay D24's Passenger Lounge, and rubbed the pads of his fingers over his eyes. It was [12:52]. He and Scalia, who he'd sent off in search of a Tupari a couple of minutes back, had been waiting for a good two hours now, and so far there had been no sign of the person they'd both come to see.<p>

No sign of Shepard.

The situation made him feel maddeningly impotent. All he could do was wait, keep both eyes on the crowds, and hope that the Commander would turn up before he either used up his six hours of leave and had to return to work, or blew his cover with Scalia. The way things had been going, it was more likely that that second eventuality would be the thing that ended his bid to find Shepard, not the first. The longer they had to wait, the less convincing his frustrated glances at his Omni-tool, expressions of contrition for wasting her time, and bids to react appropriately _to_ and distract her _from_ 'Nick's' continued absence would become. He'd gone through most of his repertoire in the contrition department already; sending her to get herself a Tupari being his last rallying-cry in that regard.

She'd be buying it with his credit-chit.

He couldn't get more contrite than that.

Things were beginning to get tight.

A rustle of fabric and a presence near his left side drew his attention away from the increasing folly of his situation, and he glanced down in his best disdainful manner to see Scalia, her fingers curled around a frosty can of Tupari, settling against the wall to people-watch.

"Found a working machine, did you?" he asked, affecting boredom with her comings and goings to see if it would rile her. By her rapid nodding and cockeyed grin, he'd say it didn't.

"Yeah" she replied, sipping from the open can. "Had to use the machine around the corner since the one in the Lounge died on me, but I got there in the end." She pinched her lips together and furrowed her brow with distaste. "Cost me a credit more than it would have if the broken one wasn't."

"It cost _me _a credit more, you mean. You used my damn chit" he snipped, making sure to labour that fact to ensure that the contrition he'd handed the chit over with was appropriately balanced by his usual guarded, wry demeanour. He had appearances to keep..confusion and anger at 'Nick' to affect..and he couldn't do that if, in trying to act natural, he let the guilt he really did feel for having manipulated her into finding the Normandy make him appear disproportionately penitent.

Luckily for him, Scalia was taking his gestures at face value for now.

"Well you did owe me.." she joked easily, sure in her own mind that her companion was acknowledging, by allowing her to use his chit for her purchase, that he both owed her for finding the Normandy for him, and felt guilty about wasting her time with the wild-goose chase his friend had lead them on this morning. She'd tried to tell him that he didn't need to worry over apologising or repaying her.. ..that she'd looked for the ship, and thereby Nick, because she'd wanted to help out, not because she wanted payment, and that the chance to see Commander Shepard wiped away the debt he didn't owe her anyway.. ..but that had only made him more insistent. In the end, taking the chit had been her way of assuaging him..and being that he seemed pretty assuaged now, what with the sarcasm and general surliness, she was glad she had done.

Guilty wasn't something she liked to see her friend being.

Settling herself in for the duration, she asked, "Still no sign of Nick?" while carefully slipping the chit back into Kolyat's pocket and canting her head up to try and catch his eyes. The clipped and final, "No" she got in response didn't surprise her. Over the past couple of hours, he'd become more and more short with her on the topic of his wayward friend, and she could understand why. If he'd left her hanging for ages without so much as a call, she'd be pissed too.

Heck, she was pissed by proxy _now_.

She'd spent such a long time making gratuitous use of her administrative pass into Citadel Control's databases looking for the guy that she felt entitled to be. He wasn't only jerking Kolyat around, he was messing with her as well, and as far as she was concerned he deserved every inch of the verbal flaying she was planning to give him when he finally turned up.

For now though, instead of riling herself up by dwelling on how she'd tackle Nick and his horrific timekeeping skills, she resolved to try and make things a bit more bearable for her irritable friend. He'd never been one for talking when he was in a snit, so instead she gave him a gentle tap on the arm, passed her Tupari to him, and did her best to keep watch over the entire room while he had his share.

To heck with friends who weren't showing up promptly.

_She_ was Shepard-watching.

It'd been a hope of hers since the battle of the Citadel that, one day, she'd be able to thank the woman for what she did in repelling the Geth, and today might be her chance. It was a slim one sure, but one nonetheless.

Scanning the crowds, she looked back briefly over the memories she had that featured the Commander..or more accurately said, that featured _pictures_ of the Commander..and sought to find her amid the masses. She recalled her face..the eyes too small by Drellish standards..the bridge of her nose oddly dipped, instead of being smooth and graceful like those of her people..lacking in frill, pleats and scales..colourless..naked-looking..overly expressive..

..

And decidedly **_not_** easy to pick out in a crowd that was four fifths human!

Chuffing softly with impatience, Scalia readjusted herself against the wall and cocked her head when Kolyat called to her quietly. He gave a dual-toned hum, low in his chest, in place of speaking her name, and she accepted her Tupari back as he passed it to her before turning her attention to the path that lead off to the left towards the Normandy and its airlock.

She was hoping..wishing even..for signs of life..but there was nothing.

No one leaving the ship..

No one entering the ship..

No sign of Shepard.

Disheartened, she took a quick sip from her can, and was reaching to tap Kolyat's arm again when she felt him tense. He stood up from his place sharply, his attention caught by someone on the other side of the room near the elevators.

"Kol?" she called, edging around him to see..and then he was moving..his broad back blocking her view as he strode through the oncoming crowd towards whomever it was that had caught his eye.

Disorientated briefly by the swiftness of his departure, it took Scalia a moment or two to absorb situation and decide what to do about it. It was obvious to her by how intent Kolyat was on getting to where he was going that Nick had finally decided to show up. Were she in his place, and had suffered a two hour wait for someone who promised to meet her promptly, she'd have been over to them like a shot too. With balled fists and depthful scowls.

That being the situation, she had two options.

There was the creepifying one, in which she tailed Kolyat, made a point of introducing herself to Nick and gave him the piece of her mind she'd planned to for being such a crappy time-keeper.. ..and the non-creepifying yet still slightly stalkerish one, which involved keeping a discrete distance and spying covertly until she lost interest and went back to Shepard-watching.

Totting up the relative risks and benefits of each choice..the main risk being incurring her notoriously snappish friend's wrath, and the chief benefit the possibility of venting her spleen..she chose caution, performed a quick 180, and walked down the small flight of stairs into the Passenger Lounge.

Casually sipping her Tupari as she strolled along, she kept her focus stage left and tried to work out who Kolyat was heading for. She could see him across the distance separating them, the crowds parting around him as they had a wont to when he was in a hurry.

_The C-Sec uniform likely helps_..she thought, watching him across the top of her can..

_And the scowl_..

..

_Yeah..definitely the scowl_..

_And the height_..

A tiny, defiant part of her mind lingered appreciatively on that detail..

_..Goddess is he_ _tall_..

..before she checked herself..

_..tall and **Kolyat**.._

..shuddered..

..and put her mind to keeping her pace comfortably shy of his as she stalked him.

She had to make sure that she didn't _look_ like she was acting out remembered basic training on covert manoeuvres from her early days in C-Sec.

When she was certain that he was none the wiser to her tailing him, she looked away from her mark briefly..snickered through a sip of Tupari at the thought of Kolyat being 'her mark'..then got back to snooping as she reached the stairs on the opposite end of the Lounge.

He looked to have stopped now, and was certainly speaking to someone.. ..the focus on his face and the fact that his lips were moving gave that away.. ..but the damn crowd milling between her and the object of her curiosity made it difficult for her to see who he was conversing with.

_Typical_..

Determined not to be scuppered in her attempts at spying, she moved up the stairs, propped herself against their top-most edge, and waited.

Ten seconds went by..

Twenty..

_Come on..come on..one little break in the people-traffic and.._

..

..

Two breaths later, she got her wish. The wandering crowds parted.. ..she caught sight of who Kolyat was speaking with.. ..and was instantly, thoroughly confused.

She couldn't tell much about the person, their back being to her at present, but she knew one thing with absolute certainty.

**THAT**..was not Nick.

It couldn't be.

Every indication she'd had from Kolyat told her that Nick was male..but the person he was speaking to _wasn't_. They were human, certainly..they had hair..and pinkish-peach skin on their hands and neck..but they weren't male. She could tell because they..no..not they.._she_..resembled a female Drell in a couple of important ways. Her waist was comparatively small for her frame, and she had a classically feminine rear.

.._Definitely a she_.. ..she thought.. .._and definitely not **Nick**_.. .._So who is she?_..

Sensing that she was on the cusp of learning something massively gossip-worthy about her notoriously taciturn friend, Scalia redoubled her spying efforts and took in what details she could about the lady he was speaking with.

Going on where the top of her head reached on Kolyat..just below his chin..she'd be about 5'8..was wearing a leather jacket, combat boots and what looked like fatigues..she was quite strapping too..had dark hair..and when she turned her head..and gave the room her profile..

Scalia gaped..her Tupari falling unheeded at her feet..

..

She knew that face..

..

She..**_knew_**..**_that_**..**_face_**!

After seconds of stunned staring, adrenaline flooded her system. It sent her cold, and brought four words to her otherwise shock-blanked mind.

_You sneaky **BASTARD**, Kolyat_

* * *

><p>AN two, the second coming.

Ollie's given name is pronounced, 'Hhlee-uhs' and his mate's is 'Sal-yih-ree'.

And now!

**_Coming in the next instalment!_**

Kolyat finally gets to talk to Shepard.

And the Commander learns something that breaks her heart.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: Greetings all and welcome to chapter 7. You must forgive the delay with which this chapter was posted. A lot of life happened to me in a very short space of time. I live by the sea now, and have a job! _**JOY**_! That having been said, here be the chapter! It's a heap shorter than the last one, as promised. I hope you like it :-P

As always, comments, thoughts, ideas and conjecture are cherished.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G_

* * *

><p><span>The Talk<span>

_**In which Scalia meets her heroine, and Kolyat shares a memory that, unbeknownst to him, breaks Shepard's heart**_

When finally she stepped out of the lift and entered Docking Bay D24, Shepard was in full-on _getting the mission done so I can get home _mode. She had her objective - getting to the Normandy for a quick refresher before making for Huerta and the home..the man..who awaited her there - and nothing was going to keep her from him.

There would be no slowing up.

No distractions.

Not _now_.

With the same focus and determination that got her through the most heated of scrapes in the field, she fixed her eyes forward and beelined for the glistening swathe of silver she could see calling to her through the Bay's distant windows. Because of her rank and level of clearance, she was shuttled through the security point with hardly a pause, and made her way onto the pedestrian concourse that would lead her past the Passengers' Lounge and on to the docking area proper.

The space bustled with activity; the milling crowds a muddled spread of pinks, silvers and blues. The air felt charged, her objective was in sight, and Shepard made her way towards it entirely heedless of the fact that she had both been spotted by watchful eyes, and was fast being approached by their owner. Indeed, so focused was she on her goal that the splash of teal coming at her from stage left didn't properly register until it spoke to her..

"Commander Shepard.."

..and she turned mid-stride, her attention caught, to find the dappled complexion and meet the nervous eyes of the only person bar Thane that could give her pause from a mission. Taller and broader than her mate, his father, Kolyat Krios stood before her in his C-Sec blues; the most concerned expression she'd yet seen on a Drellish face on his.

For a moment, she was stunned at the sight of him.

Then, she found her voice.

"..Kolyat.."

He seemed to wince when she spoke his name, holding a palm up to her in a skittish plea for quiet as he glanced around furtively.

"Please ma'm" he said, lowering his hands to his sides to try and keep his posture as humanly non-threatening as possible. He knew he couldn't actually _intimidate_ the woman, combat-hardened as she was, and he had no intention to. However, coming across too strongly now..leaping down her throat and being overly forceful..could scupper his plan to have her see sense about taking his father to war before it began. Fighting himself into something like stillness, he gave his worries voice.

"I have to talk to you about my father."

At the mention of Thane, Shepard went rigid, a lead weight dropping down into her stomach. Words slipped out before she could stop them, "Is he all right?" though her training kept the concern in them entirely professional, and her tone more or less free of the spark of panic that finding herself in this particular situation - stood not four feet from her beau's boy while said boy brought up his father in conversation - had sent racing through her system.

When first she'd met him, standing behind Joram Talid with a pistol levelled at the deep-back of the Turian's crest, that panic hadn't come on. It hadn't even existed. She'd gone there to do her job, and she'd done it well. The only blood spilled that day was Kolyat's, and even then it was just a drop from when she cracked him in the mouth to keep him from making the biggest mistake of his life.

But now..well over a year on from that awful and yet wonderful day..she had cause to feel more than a hint unnerved at their unexpected reunion.

Times had changed.

Relationships had..developed.

Circumstances had very much changed for the better.

This being the case, Kolyat's seeking her out could mean, to her mind, one of three things. The first, and most likely in her uniquely paranoid opinion, was awful. It could be that Thane's health had suddenly declined, and that he had sent Kolyat to seek her out to tell her that he couldn't leave with her. She braced herself for this worst case scenario before even considering other possibilities that might draw the young Drell to approach her.

She had to.

If she didn't, and it came as a shock to her, she wouldn't be able to get to Thane without falling apart at the seams, and it wouldn't do for Kolyat to see her like that.

The second possibility, while less terrible than the first by a magnitude of billions, was testing in a manner that Shepard had never been tested in before. As far as she knew, her mate had yet to enlighten his son as to their..closeness. When they were still on their suicide mission, he hadn't felt the time was right to heap a new stress onto the already troubled young man, and afterwards, when his health had failed, the same was once again true.

Kolyat had more than enough on his plate already without having to deal with the thought that his father had invited someone new into his life.

Now though, the stressors of the past were nothing but memories. With his health returning, Thane may well have felt comfortable sharing the depth of his affection for her with him, and it could have been that..that sharing..that knowledge..that brought him to her now.

He'd said quite openly that he 'had to talk to her about his father' after all.

If that was the case..and his intent in seeking her out was to take her to task about her relationship with Thane..she wasn't sure how to rightly handle the situation..or how she could defuse it..if it needed defusing at all. She had never been particularly..forgiving..when it came to people expressing disdain over their bond.

Questions were fine.

Confusion worked too.

She could understand those, especially from Kolyat.

But open, unabridged disdain and purposeful offensiveness?

_That_ she couldn't tolerate.

It had only happened once thus far..and the offending party had been someone she'd considered a friend too, which had made things all the worse..but she'd reached her quota then and there.

She could take no more.

Hell, she hadn't even taken it on that one particular occasion. The insult had come on a day when Thane was at his most ill during his time aboard the Normandy and she'd just.._reacted_. Superlatives that could rightly describe the anger that had come over her in that moment didn't exist. It was instant, searing, and white-hot and her fist had just..

..well..

..connected..with a dull **CRACK** and a spray of purple blood.

It was the first and last incidence of violence between her and a then former crewperson, and it wasn't something she was proud of..but it was equally not something she would apologise for. Honour was honour, and she'd defended hers, her mate's..and in a small way Irikah's too in that moment.

No matter what Kolyat said however, or how angry it made her inside, the fist-to-face course of action was obviously more than unworkable here. She couldn't 'just react' with him. She'd need to think on her feet, mind her tongue, and watch herself closely if his intent truly was to drag her through conversational barbed wire about Thane.

It just might be her luck though that option number two wasn't his mission, and that brought her to the third possibility..the one she most wanted to be the case. He could have sought her out because Thane had told him about his plans to rejoin the Normandy, and he needed the situation explained by the person who, but for his father, was most involved in it.

That, she could do.

That, she could justify and explain.

That, unlike the other options, she could discuss with him without taking the risk that her ever present mask of 'Shepard' would slip in a heated and emotional moment to reveal more of 'Ami' than she would willingly share with him.

_That being __**none**__._

Luckily for her troubled mind, Kolyat, rushed and on edge as he seemed, didn't keep her on tenterhooks for long.

"Yes..he's well, I just.." he said, glancing back over his shoulder quickly..and thereby missing by milliseconds the relief crashing through the Commander's expression..before returning his full attention to her. When their eyes met again, her elation was fully masked. To him, she seemed calm and curious; relieved in a purely professional manner to hear of her soon-to-be crewman's good health.

He fought the urge to fidget under the weight of her gaze.

"Can we speak privately?" he asked, his words hurried, "A colleague of mine is hovering around here, and I really don't-" before he was cut off by the expected but thoroughly unwanted arrival of a certain gleefully trilling female Drell of his immediate acquaintance. She planted herself about three feet from his right shoulder, a small hand lightly touched to his back announcing her presence. He tensed at the contact, and managed to mutter an exasperated and somewhat panicked, '_Arashu_..' before she piped up.

"You _jerk_ Kolyat!" she scolded playfully, excitement having wiped away any hint of real indignation she felt at his running over to the Commander without her, "I didn't think you'd seen..I mean I thought you'd found.."

Kolyat, fearing that she'd drop the 'N' word - 'Nick' - and thereby royally screw him over in front of Shepard, cut in. "Scalia."

She frowned, looking up at him. "What?"

"You're babbling like an idiot. Say hello for Gods' sake."

For a moment, she looked almost offended, "Hey, I-" but then caught herself, puffed out an embarrassed and nervy laugh, and gave the now slightly bemused Shepard her best smile. "I'm sorry. Hello Commander" she beamed, practically vibrating with excitement as arguably the most famous human in the galaxy took her in.

She, like the other Drellish lady of Shepard's acquaintance, was a slight looking creature, but was not slender per se. Just like Kehksi, she had a wiry strength about her and an obviously feminine waist and hips that, unlike Kehksi's, were dressed neatly in her C-Sec blues. That femininity was made all the clearer, again, much as Kehksi's had been, by a telling delicacy in certain of her features..especially her frill, chin, wrists, and fingers..and by how comparatively little she looked standing beside tall and burly Kolyat.

She couldn't have been a hair over 5'5.

Beside these things, her colours - rich dark blue scales set against markings and pleats that were almost black - also caught the Commander's eye, as did a pebbledash pattern of what she assumed was scarring that webbed out from the crest of her frill to cover her right eyelid. The eye itself was milky, as though it had been damaged somehow. Its state made Shepard wonder, but now was hardly the time to ask her about such things.

She had a conversation to participate in after all.

"Hello, miss Scalia. It's a pleasure to meet you" she greeted, her tone as measured and professional as it ever was when dealing with members of the public. Kolyat didn't count in her mind as 'public' exactly, hence her slightly more relaxed, open manner with him, but with his friend here things needed to be business as usual.

The woman's mottled face lit up at being addressed, and she edged around Kolyat before reaching to accept the hand the Commander offered her to shake. When she spoke, her words came quite quickly, the fluttering nerves in her belly coming out in her tone. "Not as much of a pleasure as it is for me to meet you, Ma'm. _Trust_ me. I didn't mean to interrupt if you were.."

Kolyat gave a disbelieving chuff, which she pointedly ignored, her focus on Shepard as she finished her thought.

"..speaking with my friend here." Shuffling a step closer to the lady she'd been waiting to meet since.._forever_..Scalia tightened her grip on her hand gently to help impress the gravity of her message. "I just wanted to come and say 'Hi' and to thank you for saving our asses from the Geth."

Abashed, the Commander dipped her chin slightly and smiled. "I was just doing my job. But thank you. I had a lot of help" she said, releasing her hand and glancing between Scalia and Kolyat as she spoke. The former looked ebullient, her hands now clasped by her chest as she engaged her in slightly jittery friendly banter, while the latter seemed ready to crawl out of his skin. Somehow, she felt she was missing something about the situation..that thing, whatever it was, that was making her beau's son righteously uncomfortable..but for the life of her she couldn't pinpoint it.

Whatever it was though, looking at Scalia it certainly wasn't contagious. She seemed nothing less than right at home, her jaw beginning to tremble faintly on her every inhalation. The sight of that tremor confused the Commander somewhat, unsure as she was of what she was trying to convey, but taking her expression on aggregate she surmised that it must be the Drellish tell for either happiness or excitement.

She'd ask Thane about it later.

For now, she needed to find a way to politely excuse herself and Kolyat from his gleeful friend's company so he could talk to her about whatever it was that was troubling him. Doing this would be tricky however. Even now, the blue-black Drellish lady was having a fine time nattering for the three of them, and she didn't much seem like she had plans to stop any time soon.

Pondering her options for making a getaway possible, Shepard dropped back into the conversation proper - instead of, as she had when Scalia began her chattering bent, simply smiling, nodding and sending Kolyat reassuring glances - just in time to catch an interesting happening.

It was a small thing..no more than the purposeful movement of an arm and the gentle repositioning of the happily gossiping woman so she stood between her glowering friend and the Commander, away from the flow of people-traffic that bustled around them..but it struck Shepard somewhere deep to see it done. To see Kolyat, gruff and obviously uneasy with the situation as a whole, move his little counterpart with what looked like practiced familiarity.

Like he'd done it before.

Quite why he did it then escaped her completely, tied up as she was with trying to field the now slightly closer woman's pleasant, well-meaning questions..

'Where are you travelling next, Ma'm?..Oh! I shouldn't have asked that should I. I'll bet it's classified.'

'Do you like coming to the Citadel?'

'Have you been anywhere nice today?'

'Will you be on the station long?'

..but that lack of understanding did nothing to diminish its impact on her. The look Kolyat gave her when he realised her interest - a guarded almost-but-not-quite glare and a slight raise of the chin which let him flash, for a second, the ruddy pleats on his throat - only served to further intrigue her.

She knew that gesture. Thane had explained it once. 'A pointed flash of colour' he'd said, gesturing to his throat, 'and you'll know it when you see it, is a polite warning. An extended flash of colour is a challenge.'

So he was..warning her off perhaps?

Saying, 'Stop looking at me?'

Or, 'Listen to Scalia?'

Was that it?

She couldn't know, and before she could set her mind to trying to puzzle out his meaning, a pause in conversation came.

She saw her chance and pounced.

"Scalia" she said in her best affable though authoritative manner, "I'm sorry to butt in on you like this, but Kolyat and I have a couple of things to discuss." Before the obviously curious woman could ask the question that the Commander could see on the tip of her tongue, she sweetened the situation for her as best she could and added, "So how about you and I have a holo taken of us right here.." she gestured to Kolyat hopefully, giving him a smile when he managed a slightly fuddled but greatly relieved, 'Yeah..sure..' and readied his Omni-tool's camera, "..and then we'll part ways and get on with things. How's that sound?"

Intrigued as she was at the Commander's interest in Kolyat, Scalia couldn't have been more gleeful at her offer if she tried. A joyous octave's-worth of trilled delight escaped through her smile as she spoke, the sound almost like a backing track for her words, "Oh _yes_! Thank you Ma'm!" and she slid herself up beside Shepard with respectful care; an arm haltingly curling about the woman's back when she laid a companionable one around her shoulders. Once they were properly positioned, she raised her left hand, palm out, curled all but her fused fingers into a fist and beamed like she'd just won the lottery.

She couldn't have a holo taken with _Commander Shepard _without flashing the sign for Arashu's grace after all.

Kolyat, happy to oblige if it meant getting rid of Scalia sharpish, dutifully played the role of photographer, and took three holos in quick succession - just to make sure his picky compatriot couldn't prolong her time with the Commander all the more by badgering him for re-shoots. She was over to him like lightning when the brief session was over, scrutinising his efforts and finding two of the three to her liking.

The third had to go.

It caught her mid-blink.

Watching them from her spot a count of feet away, Shepard did her best not to show how amused she was by how Scalia fussed at Kolyat until he grudgingly sent her the holos she liked. She'd never comment on it, but she had a feeling, going on how the young man let her hassle him when he really didn't have to, that he enjoyed her company more than the sour face he kept giving her let on.

"Make sure they both save right" he griped, leaning a little so he could watch the activated and glowing Omni-tool interface now shimmering above Scalia's right forearm. "I'm not sending them twice."

"Fine, fine" she huffed, irritated at having him hovering over her as she opened both pictures to check their quality. After looking them over, her tone changed on a credit and she beamed at the Commander.

"These are perfect Ma'm, thank you _so_ much!"

"Don't even think on it" Shepard replied, offering her newest acquaintance her hand once more for a parting shake. "You take care now."

"I will. You too.." Scalia grinned, shaking the Commander's hand warmly before turning to Kolyat. She rapped her knuckles lightly on his chest as she said, "Kol, you should ask about Ni-" only to find herself cut off when her taciturn friend, his patience finally exhausted, grasped her wrist and, using her Omni-tool, killed their translators.

What he proceeded to say was, of course, lost on Shepard, but that mattered for nought. Her focus was riveted solely on the fact that she was hearing Drellish voices in their full resonant glory. Bassy, mildly flanging, and pervaded by glottal stops and riffs that began within and ended quite outside of her range of hearing, the sound was..odd to her..alien in a very real sense..but fascinating and palate-wetting at the same time.

As the pair went back-and-forth, Scalia never once trying to yank her wrist from Kolyat's fingers, the Commander came to a conclusion. It was now _imperative_ that she hear her mate speak without a his translator being active. If a slightly jittery young woman and a harried young man, whose voice, incidentally, had nothing like the richness of his father's, could sound so..intriguing..hearing Thane speak without the buffer necessity had forced between them would likely knock her sideways.

Listening now she was glad to find that, although they spoke too quickly for her to follow the echoing cacophony with ease, she caught two clusters of syllables that she assumed were words..

'..Op't'ru..' and '..Ts'cali..'

..and she could tell by the general tone of Kolyat's voice, and the look on Scalia's face, that whatever was being said was both important and had shocked her. When he released her wrist, she was all hands suddenly, touching her reluctant friend's arms..then his hands..and then his shoulder before turning to her, setting the very tips of her fingers to her right sleeve, and speaking words that sounded lovely but made not a lick of sense.

At the puzzled look on the Commander's face, Scalia stopped, reactivated both her and her counterpart's translators, and repeated what she'd said. "I'm so sorry ma'm, I didn't realise." She turned back to Kolyat then, tapping a closed fist gently on his bicep. "I'll just go and.."

His response was quick and clean, "I'll see you at work" and it paused her briefly. After giving him a concerned frown though she murmured, "..Yeah.." and departed their company; making her halting way towards the security checkpoint and the lifts just beyond it.

And suddenly..they were alone.

In the vacuum left by her departure, Kolyat and Shepard eyed each other for a long moment, each shocked in their own way at finally being without their unknowing third wheel and unsure of what to do with themselves. It was the Commander who spoke first, attempting to break the ice she sensed slowly forming between herself and the young man standing across from her.

"So..she's nice."

He huffed at her effort. "She's a menace.."

Shepard scoffed, grinning. "Oh come on-"

"..and she's half blind, Commander."

"I.." she blinked, wrong footed by his abrupt change of topic. "Sorry, beg pardon?"

Kolyat gave a quiet sigh. "I saw your eyes when I moved her out of the way of the people walking along here" he glanced down along the concourse, "and don't want you to take away a wrong impression. She's been that way since the Battle of the Citadel. A wall-panel exploded and caught her across the face."

Shocked, Shepard simply nodded faintly, unsure of what she could rightly say that wouldn't sound trite.

"The sight problem is the reason she's so handsy" he went on, rubbing at his shoulder absently to try and sate his need to fidget. "So..touchy. Her depth-perception isn't what it could be, so she needs a contact point to gauge how close she is to people. That's why she touched me when she arrived and did the same with you when she turned to you before she left; why she can be clumsy when she moves at speed; and why I moved her away from the crowds. When she's focused on something..like she was on you..she hasn't got a spare eye to keep on the people coming towards her. So I.."

"..So you're her spare eye.." she murmured, a bubble of pride that she was sure he wouldn't appreciate her feeling for him welling up in her chest.

Shifting his weight a little, Kolyat gave a short nod. "It's that or watching her run into things daily" he grumbled, unsettled by the little smile that had curled the very edges of the Commander's lips. He couldn't rightly read the expression, so picked the safest of the reactions to it available to him - mild churlishness with a side of irritation. "She's loud enough without having that to complain about too."

"I'll bet.." she chuckled, unfazed by his seemingly dismissive, grumpy attitude. It wasn't all it seemed to be. She was sure of that. Curious then, she probed, "If you don't mind me asking, what did you say to her? She looked awful concerned."

Kolyat caught a hiss behind his teeth. "That's a..long story." He huffed then, shaking his head at quite how deeply he'd managed to land himself in the ever-living shit. "Let's just call it a stay of execution and leave it at that. Please."

Feeling her smile becoming a smirk, Shepard asked, "A stay for who? Her?"

"No" he griped, nictitating his inner lids quickly before rubbing the pads of his fingers over his brow. "Me. She'll poison my coffee when she finds out that I..oh, it doesn't matter. Ma'm.." he paused, holding her gaze, his expression newly serious, "may we speak about my father now? He's well..I just..we need to speak."

The levity that had begun to creep into the Commander's demeanour sank along with the lead weight that went clattering right back down into the pit of her belly at his anxious request. It seemed that the reprieve Scalia's appearance had given them was well and truly over.

Tempering her smile consciously, lest her expression fall down with the weight in her gut, she gave a slight nod. "We can" she said, looking around quickly to find them a quiet place to talk. Sighting one nearby, she glanced at Kolyat and gestured towards it.

"Come on. I'm sure security won't mind if we use one of their waiting rooms."

* * *

><p>The room they found to speak in was a sterile, cool place, that was blessedly empty when they entered it. Three of its four walls were metal, the fourth glass but soundproof. It housed four rows of chairs; two in the centre of the room back to back, and one against the fore and back walls. There was a Tupari machine nestled in the far corner, its muted hum filling the area when silence fell and stretched uncomfortably.<p>

Entering ahead of Kolyat, Shepard made for the machine, intent on distracting herself, however briefly, from the prospect of being questioned by her mate's son. She was down to two possible reasons for his needing to speak with her now. He either wanted to take her to task about her relationship with his father..or talk to her about taking him to war with her..and she, pessimistic she, was almost sure now that it would be the former of those options.

There was no evidence, except the crawling unease in her gut, to support her theory, but she didn't need any. She wasn't lucky enough, in her mind, for the only real secret she carried to remain one after so much time had passed; particularly not from the one person it actually might have some kind of an impact on.

That's not to imply that she had some deep-seated aversion to Kolyat knowing about her affection for his father. Not at all. She simply didn't want him to feel somehow put out or wronged by it, and worried that having her in the picture might negatively affect his relationship with Thane.

Unlike her fretful conclusions about his topic of choice however, these worries weren't baseless by any means. When she was a good deal younger, she'd had no love for the gentleman-friend her mother found after her father died. Granted she'd been about ten at the time, but the feeling of her lovingly missed parent being somehow replaced in her mother's life by some..unknown _person_..had remained until she'd hit eighteen.

The man had weathered the war of attrition she'd waged against him admirably, but she knew herself too well to think that she could do as good a job of getting through Kolyat's version of her, 'You need to prove to me that you're worthy of my mother' campaign as Gareth, her mother's partner of some twenty-two years now, had done when she was young and distrustful. She was nothing like as patient, empathetic or forward-thinking as the man had long proved himself to be, and had been so tightly wound by thoughts of losing Thane that anything that might even half register as a threat to his calm was automatically red-lighted in her mind.

Shaking off thoughts of having the cut of her jib tested by her dear love's son, she made her selections from the machine, pointedly ordered two cans, collected them after they clattered down into the dispensary draw, and then turned her attention back to Kolyat. He sat with his back to the windowed wall, his elbows on his knees, head lowered in thought.

..

It was a position she knew well.

She'd been right there herself..sitting someplace she both wanted and didn't want to be..facing something she didn't like at all.

Frowning faintly to herself, the Commander pocketed her Tupari for a moment, and quickly activated the palm-held component of her Omni-tool. Upon it was the clock, timer and other small sundry features.

The time now, as she glanced at it, was [13:15] which meant she was expected at Huerta in fifteen or so minutes.

Setting the timer to warn her when the clock struck [13:35], those extra five minutes regrettably all she could spare on top of the time she'd spend here now, she keyed off the display, retrieved her beverage from her pocket and approached her seated counterpart; her booted steps too loud in her ears. "All right Kolyat" she began, settling across from him and passing over one of the cans. "You wanted to talk. What's on your mind?"

After accepting the can, he was quiet for a long moment, considering his answer. He needed to make sure that he made the most compelling case possible in favour of keeping his father out of the war, but knew that doing that would require revisiting memories and topics that would test both his patience and, much as he hated admitting it, his emotional strength. For all he'd tried to stop it, there was a certain bond between him and his no-account forebear. It confused him..annoyed him..and made thoughts of losing the man to the war effort so soon after he had re-entered his life..difficult.

Deliberately setting the Tupari aside, Kolyat turned his mind to laying out how he would attempt to convince Shepard not to carry through with her plan. While he didn't have a script lined up per se, he had a particular memory he wanted to share with her, and had set himself a couple of ground rules within which he planned to work.

He knew that, as had been the case when he first approached her on the concourse, simply leaping for her throat and demanding she didn't whisk his father off to Goddess knows where wouldn't be wise. Indeed, she'd likely interpret his vigour as confrontational, and _that_ wasn't something he could afford to risk if he wanted to have a shot at talking her down.

He also knew, much to his chagrin, that he wouldn't have half as much of a chance of doing that..of bringing her round to his point of view..if he didn't allow her to understand how the situation with his father had, and still did, affect him. Without doing that..without broaching topics that hurt him..

His father's illness..

His relationship with him..

The prospect of him leaving the Citadel..

..and allowing her at least a glimpse of how they wrung him out emotionally, his motives would be left to implication alone and his arguments would lose a good deal of their impact. It looks a lot better, after all, for a concerned son who is emotionally invested in keeping his father safe to ask for him to be reprieved from battle, than for a son who seems to be acting out of duty alone to demand it.

..

And truth be..he was the first of those..the concerned son.

Irksome to him as that fact was.

With those things in mind, Kolyat started by giving a respectful, reserved preface. Something that would allow him to test the waters, and get a feel for Shepard's mood and demeanour. "Commander.." he said, purposefully using her title, "besides today we've never really met.."

As he spoke, a memory came unbidden..

-..blue eyes glare at me down the barrel of a loaded gun..-

..but he blinked it back, focussing on the woman across from him. If she noticed his slip, she made no mention of it. Intent, he concluded his thought. "..so I don't know how well you're going to take hearing what I've got to say to you."

Shepard, her stomach in knots, channelled her mother's Gareth as best she could and spoke to reassure him. By some God's grace, her voice came out steady. "Believe me" she said, bracing herself mentally for whatever was to come, "I've had both barrels from people of every race, colour, creed and social strata. From people I've known for years, and ones I've never met before." She chanced a tiny, self-deprecating smile before prompting, "Speak freely. I'm listening."

With a short nod, Kolyat went on, his voice becoming a hint more firm and sure for her implicit encouragement. "I don't like my father, Ma'm" he said, noting how her eyes widened fractionally at his bluntness, "I don't know that I ever will..but I'm.." .._Gods_ this was hard to say.. "..worried about him. Before you visited him at the hospital, he'd never once spoken of joining the war effort, and yet now.." his stoically frosty exterior cracked just faintly, a confused frown marring his brow, "..after _one_ visit..he's going, and his mind's made up on the issue."

He was quiet for a moment, weighing the Commander's reactions to his words, his tone. She looked curious, and was focused on him, attentively waiting for him to make his point. Gathering his best empathic though dissenting air, he added, "I know why you want him to go with you. I know what he is..and what he's done..and what he's good at..and why you need him to do those things for you again. The war with the Reapers is headline news. But knowing all that doesn't make.._this_.." he gestured between them vaguely, his frown deepening enough to make the soft skin at the inner corners of his eyes wrinkle, "any easier."

Listening as he expressed his discomfort, Shepard felt as though she was walking along a razor's edge with bare feet. Despite his apparent focus on her taking his father to war with her, which she could understand given their recent history, she was still unsure whether he knew of her bond with him. That wave and his use of the demonstrative pronoun 'this' certainly didn't help clear things up in that regard.

'This' could mean anything.

This situation..

This conversation..

..or..as she feared it might..This relationship you're having with my father..

Getting to the bottom things would be tricky, especially since she couldn't ask him anything particular without giving the game away, but she wasn't entirely without hope. She could dig a little deeper into the meaning behind that wave of his, and hoped that the extent of his knowledge would become clear as they spoke and tried to resolve whatever worries he had..whether they were about her and Thane, or something else entirely.

"What do you mean by 'this'?" she asked, mimicking his gesture.

Kolyat drew in and huffed out a deep breath before he answered her. "Everything to do with my father" he said, looking at his hands when holding the woman's gaze became too tasking.

Privately, said woman almost buried her head in her hands at his words, they being precisely the kind of vague that wouldn't help her figure out where she stood, but she schooled herself quickly and turned her attention back to listening.

"It's a.." he tried, picking distractedly at a callus between his thumb and forefinger as he struggled to express his thoughts; oblivious to his counterpart's discomfort. "It's a mess. I shouldn't want to know him..but.." Cutting himself off before he ended up exposing quite how raw the situation had made him, he shook his head and sighed, hoping Shepard might pitch in with..something.

Anything to ease his mind.

Empathy routing the panic in her gut at his seeming confusion, the Commander channelled her mother's Gareth again and trod very, **VERY** gently as she made a tentative guess as to the source of his consternation. "You don't want to care about him.." she brooked, earning a glance but little more, "but you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here."

"You're saying that as if it's a positive thing" he grumbled.

Aching to cast his situation in a becoming light, and knowing that Thane wouldn't want his son so conflicted, she asked, "You don't think that having the strength, after everything you've been through, to accept the man enough to form an attachment to him is a positive thing?"

Kolyat fenced. "Not when it's painful" he snapped, catching himself and doing his best to cool his heels before the spike of irritation her question sent through him could make him openly confrontational. Speaking himself out of the snit he could feel coming on, he said, "With him, all its been is one..trial after another. First his..occupation..then finding out that my mother was killed as a reprisal for some gangbanger he'd assa-" he stumbled over the word 'assassinated', its taste like poison on his tongue, "gotten rid of..then his illness.." His words petering to a stop, Kolyat glanced around uneasily before chancing a look at the Commander.

"It hasn't even been a year" he said, the imploring edge to his tone just being held at bay. His lips thinned slightly with stress as he spoke, a lick of tension coiling through his body. "When he first got here, I almost wrote him off as soon as I saw him. He was _that_ ill."

Shepard, painful memories of just how ill '_that_ ill' was encroaching on her, gave a tight nod. "I know. When he left the Normandy.." she paused, forcing away the phrase she was going to say.. 'I thought it was our last goodbye'..and replacing it with a much more approachable, much less painful, "Professor Solus, the Salarian doctor who made him well, told me things were looking grim."

Hearing the name, Kolyat perked up slightly. "I met him at the hospital" he said, answering the Commander's surprised, "Oh?" with a nod of his own. "Yeah. I'd come to visit father, and the Professor told me that he'd need blood transfusions before his surgery. Since Drellish blood isn't easy to find outside of Kahje, I..well" his voice turned almost petulant then, walls that had lowered slightly as he spoke coming right back up, "..I couldn't not volunteer, could I?"

Even though he was obviously fighting to turn a glowingly positive thing into something that sounded almost coerced, Shepard's heart turned over in her chest at what she was hearing. Strained as things obviously were, she'd been right. There was a caring between Kolyat and his father, whether the young man liked it or not.

Tamping down on the new swell of pride she felt in the wake of his telling her about how he helped Mordin help Thane, she, again gently, brooked, "That was a wonderful thing you did."

The glare that snapped into place at her words couldn't have been more doubtful. It didn't stay for long however. After he muttered a plainly indignant, "What else could I do?" the distance he had forced between them with his scowling began to lessen again. "He was _dying_ right in front of me. I couldn't just.." As he had moments ago, he stopped himself before he wandered into overly taxing, raw territory, forced a breath between open lips and refocused on his primary objective.

Persuading Shepard not to take his father to war.

Using the momentary break in conversation to his advantage he changed tack, confessing quite honestly, "I'm getting off track" before doing his best to direct their discussion in a manner that would allow him to present his case for keeping his father out of the conflict in the most compelling light possible.

His plan coming in had been to explain and share a particular memory that, for him, typified everything that made him uneasy about the situation as a whole. All told, he was unsure whether the experience would be as moving for Shepard as it would be for a fellow Drell - the sharing of experiences in the manner he planned to being one of the main ways in which his people expressed both their gravest concerns and their most joyous moments - but it was the best he could do.

There was no backup plan to speak of.

This was it. His only option.

It had to work.

"I know that things are different now to how they were then" he began, an edginess born of his desire and need to talk her round coming over him. "I know he's getting better..but it isn't memories of milestones that stand out to me about the last seven..almost eight months."

Much as he hoped she would be, the Commander was intrigued by his mention of memories and asked, "Which stand out to you, if not the good ones?"

Steeling himself, Kolyat made his play.

"There's..one, really.." he murmured, allowing the emotions that came to him as he recalled the memory to reach his tone as he prefaced its telling. "It isn't..'bad' exactly. More like..odd..but it's stuck with me..and it represents the reason I'm here asking you to reconsider taking my father to war with you." Holding her gaze, he puffed out a breath. "To tell this right, I'll need to explain a bit about how the Drellish mind works. Is that..ok?"

Equal parts gladdened by the fact that he seemed focused purely on challenging her about allowing Thane to rejoin the Normandy, and intrigued about the memory's content - it obviously being of something that both involved her mate and troubled Kolyat deeply - Shepard nodded. "Of course. Tell away, please."

He opened with a question. "Did my father ever tell you about our peoples' memory?"

"He did. It's eidetic, isn't it. You can relive moments as if they're happening now."

"That's right" he said, "and because of that, and the ease with which memories are triggered, it isn't uncommon in a Drellish household to come across a family member going through one in a quiet moment during the day. It usually happens around evening time, when the mind is tired."

Shepard's brows rose, her curiosity plain. "Really?" she asked, managing a little smile at the thought. "You'll see the person talking through it and everything? To themselves?"

Kolyat frowned, chuffing derisively. "_No_. Drell only explain memories verbally when they're sharing them with someone. If they're alone, they're usually silent..unless the memory is of a conversation, or of words they either said or that were said to them. Then they might repeat them, but nothing more."

"Oh I see" the Commander conceded, hoping the heat in her face wasn't too obnoxious in the harsh white light of the room. The oddly suspicious cast Kolyat's expression had taken as he spoke didn't help matters.

"You know that from my father, don't you?" he asked. "He shared memories with you that way."

Her stomach re-knotting at the thought of having inadvertently given her closeness to Thane away somehow, Shepard bit the bullet and did what her mother had when she, as an angst-ridden teenager, had once asked her about how close she was with Gareth.

She told the truth.

Economically, and with a mind to the fact that she might _not_ have given the game away at all.

"He has done in the past, yes."

After a contemplative pause, Kolyat tilted his head a fraction to the right, seemingly satisfied with her honesty. As relief caused Shepard to sag in her chair slightly, he went on, unaware of how fraught a moment he'd given her. "Well then, you know what it was I saw. Father was sitting up in his bed at the hospital, pillows keeping his arms from resting down on his torso. This was shortly after his operation, so his muscles were still healing. Anything but the most careful pressure on his ribs was painful to him."

Tension owned her at hearing of her beau's pain, but the Commander simply bit the inside of her cheek and nodded, prompting Kolyat to continue.

"His lips were moving" he explained, "the occasional word escaping. He was speaking quietly to someone who wasn't there, and I knew as soon as I saw him that he was reliving a memory. The drugs he was on had made him relax enough for one to take hold. I didn't know what it was he was seeing, but that didn't matter. It wasn't odd, or worrying. Just..Drellish, I suppose.

I left him to it at first. It's not..good..to jolt a Drell from a memory sharply, especially when they're ill. The shock can be stressful..so I made tea instead..tried to be as quiet as possible and left him alone." He frowned faintly as he recalled the moment, his father's vulnerability in it striking, even to his jaded eyes. "It took him about five minutes to come around..to realise I was there. He looked at me..and he said, 'Where's my Siha?'.."

At that word..at 'Siha'..Shepard's heart almost stopped, her eyes going wide and jaw faltering slack before she caught herself and schooled her expression. It seemed she'd been wrong before to hope that she'd escaped 'the topic'; her relationship with Thane. She was his Siha, after all, and he seemed to have brought her up to Kolyat in the moment he was recounting for her.

Now then, the real questions would begin, just as they had when she'd argued with her mother about Gareth when she was young and foolish. The accusations would come, just like they had with her..the anger too..the mistrust and machinations of forcing impossible choices between 'him' and 'me'.

She was about to speak to..explain..to placate perhaps..to gentle him, or at least try to..but he spoke first.

"I knew right then who he'd been remembering" he said, and Shepard braced herself, her breath tight in her throat. Kolyat almost..almost smiled as he explained. "It was my mother. I don't know if he ever told you about her, but 'Siha' was the love-name..er..sorry, nickname he gave her."

It took every single ounce of self-control in her being for the Commander to keep her composure as he explained his thoughts to her. As he spoke, she couldn't meet his eyes; first out of worry about seeing anger or disgust there, and then out of pure shame at having assumed that it would have been her, her mate's 'other Siha', not Irikah, that he recalled when he was weak and needed comfort. She almost felt unworthy of sharing the woman's love-name, such was the affection she knew Kolyat was speaking with, but she pushed the feeling down.

She could deal with it later. Now was not the time to dwell.

Giving herself a moment to regroup, she cracked open her can of Tupari and took a quick sip before she thought to answer him, ignoring how the hand that held the can shook faintly with stress. Her throat needed easing before she could venture onto such obviously tender ground as Irikah. "He did tell me about her, yes" she said, minding to keep her voice as gentle as she could without coming across as overly empathetic. She couldn't empathise with him rightly..not about his mother..and she knew that trying would only irk him. "It means 'angel', doesn't it..'Siha'.."

Kolyat watched her lips as she spoke, his eyes focused and intent. After a contemplative moment he replied, the brief glimmer of a smile he had given at the mention of his mother leaving as quickly as it came. "It sounds odd from human lips..but yes. Something like, 'protective warrior angel' is the rough translation." He paused then, reigning his thoughts into order before carrying on with his explanation.

"Anyway..he asked me that, and I winced. The drugs had skewed his mind just enough that he thought the memory was real..that my mother had just been there talking with him." He clenched and unclenched his fists slowly, working out a little of the unease recalling all this brought on. "And I had to tell him the truth of things. That she's gone..'She's with Kalahira, father..' I said..Kalahira is our Goddess of Oceans..She cares for the departed..'She's with Kalahira' I told him, and he..sort of snapped out of it. He came around fully and apologised. Said he was confused..and we got on with the day from there. He was fine.."

Mindful to keep quite how well she was acquainted with his people's Gods and Goddesses to herself, Shepard simply nodded where appropriate, tamping down on the ball of emotion that'd lodged itself in her chest as he explained how disorientated Thane had been. The only thing keeping the guilt she felt at not having been at his side through it all to manageable levels was the fact that she knew she _couldn't_ have been.

Protective custody isn't argued with; not when an entire race - the Batarians - is after your blood.

"That wasn't the odd part though, Commander" he went on, dropping his gaze to his hands quickly before meeting her eyes again. "A few days later, I came by to see him again and he was having another memory. At first I wasn't bothered by it. Like I said, it's natural for Drell to dwell like that, especially when they've been ill. It's a restful thing when the memories are gentle. Calming. He was smiling this time as he spoke..murmuring little words. He didn't make any sense, but you rarely do when you're recalling like that. Things just kind of..come.

So I let him go again..made us both a mug of tea, sat beside him and waited for him to come round..which he did. He looked at me again..and asked what he had the first time. 'Where's my Siha?' He'd been remembering mother again..and I told him..'She's been with Kalahira for a long time, father. You know that..'..and Shepard.." he shook his head, huffing out a breath and sitting back in his chair, regarding her with all severity, "I swear to you, I don't know what it was I said, but he changed so _fast_.."

"What happened?" she asked, struck by how wrought her counterpart suddenly seemed. "What'd he do?"

"It.." His words dying away as an idea struck him, Kolyat sat forward again, gestured towards her, and took a chance. "I could show you, but.."

"Please" Shepard cut in, a second thought never entering her mind. This was, after all, the crux of the story Kolyat had been telling her. If she didn't experience it fully, she'd be missing out on something that was obviously of great importance to him.

Watching her closely, he rested his elbows on his knees and held his hands out towards her. "Hold your arms like this.." he prompted..which she did, the palms up, fingers splayed.

Five there instead of the normal Drellish four.

Needing to make sure he didn't destroy the tentative rapport that seemed to have kindled between them during their talk, he spoke to make sure she understood his intentions. "I mean you no violence, Commander. What my father did wasn't violent. He didn't hurt me, and I won't you."

It sounded..odd..saying it out loud - telling this woman, of all women, that she was safe from him when he knew damn well how proficient she was in all things violent - but still, it needed saying. If he took her entirely by surprise, he ran the risk of her reacting without thinking and defending herself, and he knew from experience that he could expect at least a bloody lip if that were to occur.

Touched by his thoughtfulness, Shepard allowed herself a full and proper smile. "It's all right, Kolyat" she said, flexing her fingers slightly in a muted display of readiness. "I'm with you on this. We'll do things your way." When he caught her eyes again, she gave a little nod, which he returned before slowly..tentatively..touching his hands to her forearms.

It was a light, timid touch; not the one his father had given him in the moment he planned to share with her, but one he needed nonetheless. A little moment spent on bridging the gap between himself on his chair and _her_, she with a reputation longer than he was tall, on that opposite him. He needed to make sure it was safe to touch her at all, after all. Much as he wouldn't use sand to bathe with without checking its temperature, he couldn't recount the physical elements of this particular memory with Shepard without testing her reaction to contact first.

Reassurances be damned.

True to her seeming ease however, she didn't jolt..move..or pull away. She simply relaxed, and let him work himself up for whatever it was that was coming.

More sure of himself after this little success, his touch became just a hint more firm. Now, his fingers actually found purchase on the leather sleeves of her jacket, and still, she made not a move. Not a jolt or waver. She didn't return the touch, as she could upon his forearms if she wished. She simply waited as he breathed for a moment; his eyes, raising from where they had been watching his fingers find black leather, becoming unfocussed as the memory came to him.

Looking upon him then, she knew that face.

It was Thane's from this angle, she'd swear it blind.

Then, suddenly..the restfulness of the moment ceased to exist. He grew frenetically tense, recounting, "He jolts upright" as he sat up sharply himself. Not a half-breath later, he went on, "grasps my arms" as he grasped hers just below the elbows, "and pulls me close to him before I have time to pull away." Dragged towards him, as he had been by Thane, Shepard fought every ounce of training she had and didn't put up a whiff of resistance. She simply watched and listened, knowing that the anger in his expression was not his own. He went on swiftly.."I feel his breath on my face as he _bellows_"..raising his voice as Thane had with him.. "..'**YOU LIE! YOU **_**LIE**_** TO ME**! **I saw her not **_**four months**_** ago**!'.."

And then..as quickly as it had come..the memory was banished, and it was Kolyat sitting before her again. As she gaped at him, he sat back from her quickly, releasing her arms and putting distance that they both needed between them as they absorbed what had passed.

After a near minute of silence but for their breathing, he spoke. "..Shepard" he tried, his voice tending on the hoarse side from all the shouting he'd done, "my mother died over a _decade_ ago..and he _knows_ that..and yet for the rest of the visit, he didn't speak to me. He barely even _looked_ at me! He just kept looking over something on his Omni-tool and muttering to himself about dates. I think he must have scared himself or something but.." he sighed deeply, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his face to try and enliven himself a little. "His head was..gone."

For her part the Commander, despite how she was listening to him intently and taking in what he was telling her on some subliminal level, barely heard what he was saying. She was too fixed on those last seven words he'd recalled.

'I saw her not _four months_ ago.'

Sitting forward again, her elbows on her knees, hands loose between them, she allowed herself one little moment of visible weakness. She lowered her head, closed her eyes, and let out a slow sigh. When she opened them, and looked at him, Kolyat was speaking again.

"That's what I remember of my father's stay at Huerta" he said. "That's what jumps out at me. Not the progress..or the time we spent looking at holos together..or the walks we took. I remember that moment most clearly. When his memory failed him and made him honestly think that something that couldn't have been real, was."

She was sure from listening to him that the young man was being earnest, and could empathise with his horror at the idea that his father was, in that fleeting moment, unable to recall something as important as the fact that Irikah was indeed with Kalahira. For a race who are born with perfect memory, the loss of that ability would be unthinkable; something worthy of confusion and fear.

His worry though was unfounded, and Shepard knew it. She knew better. She knew something that he obviously didn't. Something that made both the depth of his knowledge regarding her relationship with his father clear, and Thane's losing his temper at being told that his Siha was with Kalahira make perfect sense.

He hadn't been thinking of Irikah in that moment.

He hadn't forgotten anything.

He'd been thinking of her.

Her..she..Amial, who was very much alive and who, in the months prior to Kolyat visiting his father when he was in the hospital, had been at his bedside; just like he remembered her being when Kolyat - thinking that he was remembering his mother - had told him that his Siha had crossed the sea.

It was this realisation that made her lower her head. The thought that, when he was at his most needing of her presence, her love had remembered her tenderly and had then been told, quite innocently and as the result of a mistake in judgement, that she was dead.

Thinking of the upset that must have caused him, especially since he'd been so obviously vulnerable when it had happened, tore at her heart in a way the battered thing had never been torn at before.

No _wonder_ he'd bellowed and become greatly upset.

No _wonder_ he hadn't spoken to him, and barely looked at him again that day.

Had their positions been reversed, and _she_ was the one getting news of _his_ death..

Her heart clenched, and she had to cough into her hand to cover how unforgivably her lips quivered at the thought. Feigning a minor hacking fit and hurrying down three gulps of Tupari to hide the break in her composure, Shepard consoled herself with the fact that Kolyat, as far as she could tell, didn't know how close she and Thane were. If he had done..if he knew there was something there..he wouldn't have been confused by his father's talk of 'seeing her four months ago'. Even if he didn't know that he called her 'Siha', he would have put the pieces together and puzzled it out.

But he hadn't.

A whisper more content than she had been prior to her hurried sipping, Shepard took a breath and spoke, "All right Kolyat" but he was faster; urgency, this once, prompting him to interrupt her.

"It _isn't _all right" he hissed, tensing sharply as he tried to mask an abortive attempt at flashing his throat at her in warning again. "I don't ever want him to be like that again, Commander. And going to war with you is just lining him up for it. He'll get hurt, or sick, or.._something_..and all the progress will have been for nothing."

"I understand" she said, her voice made purposefully firm to both assert her authority and keep it from failing her, "and can see how that experience would make you worry. I'd have felt the exact same thing if I was in your position. But your father's health has improved by magnitudes since then. According to his doctors, he's well enough to travel with us."

Kolyat gave a disgruntled chuff. "He told me the exact same thing" he said, noting the surprise in the Commander's expression. "I've tried to talk him out of going, but he won't hear of it." Swallowing back the accusatory edge he wanted to lace through his message, he added, "I don't know what you said to him..what you promised him in return for signing on with you..but none of it is worth putting his life at risk over" and waited then with baited breath for her to respond.

Much as his tone implied quite openly that he felt she had bribed his father into rejoining her crew, the relief she felt at not having to focus on thoughts of her mate in distress balanced out the roaring indignation his words lit in her. Kolyat wasn't to know the truth of things after all. He was going on instinct, not actual facts, and she couldn't fault him for that. She could correct him however, and spoke to do just that; her tone as level and calm as she could make it.

"To be clear" she said, "I didn't, wouldn't and couldn't promise your father anything in return for rejoining the Normandy."

"But you asked him to go with you" Kolyat clipped, frowning deeply.

Shepard shook her head, almost pained to disabuse him. "No, I didn't."

For a moment, the young Drell looked thunderstruck, his voice turning soft with shock. "..What?"

"He asked if he could travel with us again. I told him yes, so long as his doctors and the Normandy's head physician cleared him. Which they have. I can't refuse him, Kolyat."

His cheeks and throat flushing with aggravation and disbelief that his father had chosen to leave without the Commander having asked him to, Kolyat barely stopped himself from standing up out of his chair. "Why not!?" he snarled, directing his anger at the only target he had at present. Shepard herself. "It's _your_ ship!"

Taking his ire on the chin, the Commander sat forward and looked him dead in the eye. "I don't want to make you uneasy" she said, minding to keep her tone as level and irritation-free as possible, "but your father told me something when he was..poorly..that's the whole reason for me being unable to refuse him. He said to me, 'Death's veil is all I see now, Shepard. It blocks out the stars. All of the light fades into emptiness. There is nothing more to my future than the lid of a box..'.." The tightness in her throat returning, she went on quickly, eager to make her point and move on from such horrifyingly painful talk.

"The lid of the box is gone now. Thanks to his doctors, he's got a life to live again, and I can't stop him from doing that. Not if he's well enough to do it, which he is."

Kolyat, his composure so rocked and temper so frayed that the anecdote's content barely moved him, snapped, "So autonomy justifies taking a man who's just out of his hospital bed out in a warship?"

"After a careful risk assessment and medical checks made by nine physicians" she said, her manner in the face of his ire something it had taken years to perfect, "yes. It does."

"And what of his family?" he pressed, grasping now for a straw he might use since Shepard seemed to have sided with his father long before he got the chance to speak with her. "Do I not get a say? He'll die out there, Commander, advisory role or not, and you're _allowing_ that!"

"Nothing's that cut and dry in war" she replied, masking the discomfort his words brought as best she could. Opening her arms, she gestured to the room they occupied and the Citadel beyond it. "Gods forbid, the Reapers could attack this place in ten minutes time, and then where would we be?"

Kolyat chuffed. " Don't try and make out that going with you and your crew is the safe option for him."

"Oh but it could be" she said, raising her brows. "If they come here, there's little anyone could do but run for their ships, and if the Normandy isn't here, your father doesn't have one to run to. But, if he comes with us, the threat he'll face from a Reaper invasion is almost zero."

Unmoved, he sneered a derisive, "Bullshit."

Ignoring his profanity, Shepard countered without missing a beat. "Not so. The Normandy's the quickest ship in the galaxy. She's outrun Reapers before, and will again. She's built for stealth, Kolyat. She keeps out of sight and out of mind in her little tech-made bubble of invisibility while we scout the deep black for supplies and allies. That's her job. If your father rode with us, he'd be right in the middle of that invisible little bubble floating somewhere safe out in space. He wouldn't be stuck in one place like a sitting duck-"

"A whating what?"

Shepard, her monologue derailed, blinked out of her train of thought and tried to enlighten him. "Er..like a fish in a barrel? Know that one?"

The blank look she got was telling.

Snuffling, she dropped the idioms, "He wouldn't be a stationary target" and got back on track. "And if the Reapers did find us, we'd just do what we always do. Break for the edge of the system and wait them out. The places we go, there're so few of the damn things that even a reading of one passing within a light-year of us is rare. Sightings don't happen unless we're actually in Reaper-controlled space looking for them."

"And when you are? Where will he be then?"

"On the ship, like I told him. You said it yourself, he's only advising us on this tour. I won't have him out in the field."

Kolyat gave her a calculating look. "He told me that when we spoke, and I didn't understand it then. Why do you need him at all? What good is he if he isn't in the field working?"

Shepard managed a tight smile. "You underestimate his abilities as a teacher. The man taught me to hit a target using an M-97 Viper at 100 yards. For all my talents" she snuffled, the dry note in her tone marking her words as sarcastic, "I couldn't snipe for shit, Kolyat. I'm still only barely proficient, but that's due to my lack of talent, not his. If he can teach me to shoot straight at range, he can teach my crew all manner of things. Add to that over thirty years of field experience and you've got an indispensible resource for the war effort."

At her words, Kolyat visibly bristled.

"He's not some 'war asset', Commander. He's my damn _father_."

"I know" she replied, the levity that had found her tone a moment back leaving it now. "And he's my damn-"

A bleep then, strident and clear, cut her off and made both she and Kolyat jump. Quickly, she turned to her Omni-tool, deactivated its timer and glanced at the clock. She knew what it would read.

[13:35]

Her time was up.

Gathering her professionalism around her, she rose to her feet; Kolyat rising to his along with her, a confused expression on his face.

"Listen here now" she said, straightening her jacket briskly. "I've got to go and see a man about a thing right this second, but we're not done here and I know that. I want to talk with you more, and I want you to talk to your father again."

Kolyat almost despaired. "He won't _listen_ to me!" he said imploringly. "If you'd just recon-" he cut himself off as the Commander made for the exit, her eyes still on him as she began moving away. Foolishly, his body reacted before his mind could catch up.

"_**Shepard**_!" he snapped, stepping around her and grasping the crook of her right arm.

Although her instincts screamed, there was no violence in her response. There was no punch. No restraint. Just a hand around his wrist, and her eyes holding his. Slowly, with calculated precision, she stepped back from him, putting distance between them again. Only then did she release him and speak. "The Normandy is laid over for four days. She needs repairs and the crew needs some downtime. After that, we'll be hauling out, but until we do, you've got all the time you need to speak to Thane-"

"He won-"

"_**Listen to me**_!" she barked, the note of command in her voice unmistakeable. "I will _speak_ with your father about this for you. I'll tell him that you're concerned for him, and that he needs to engage with you about all this." Speaking her next words clearly and firmly, she added, "It's not my place to tell Thane what to do with his life. That choice is his, and only his, and I'll stand by him no matter what he finally decides because I respect him. For your peace of mind, I almost hope he decides to stay here, but that choice is his. Not mine, and not yours."

She was quiet for a moment, watching Kolyat's face. It was difficult to rightly read him, but she knew by the way his jaw was working that he wasn't best pleased. Knowing that nothing but an accession to his wishes regarding expelling Thane from the Normandy's roster would soothe him, she gathered herself and cut her losses.

"I'll be in touch within a day or so. Thane has your details I assume.."

She paused, raising her brows in question. Although he didn't catch the facial queue, Kolyat nodded dejectedly.

"..so I'll get them from him and we'll take things from there. We'll get all this sorted, don't you worry."

She glanced down at her Omni-tool again, checking the time.

[13:38]

_Shit I'm so damn late.._

Slipping through the door, she called a companionable, "Take care, Kolyat" over her shoulder, and she was out, back into the world. Back amongst people and noise and not pinioned by intensity and ire.

She'd made it through..and _had_ to leave.

Thane would be waiting for her.

Turning to the elevators beyond the security point, she walked at an easy pace until the waiting room's windows were behind her, then took to her heels and triple-timed it towards the first opening lift.

* * *

><p>Minutes after the Commander left, Kolyat remained where he stood. Still with impotent rage, he focused on bringing himself out of the memory-loop of her departure.<p>

"Take care, Kolyat"

The door swishes closed.

I've failed.

"Take care, Kolyat"

The door swishes closed.

I've failed.

"Take care, Kolyat"

The door swishes closed.

I've failed.

"Take care, Kolyat"

The door swishes closed.

I've failed.

_Failed_.

"Stop."

He actually spoke the word aloud. Taking a deep breath, as though waking from sleep, he blinked, and took in the room. The chairs, whiteish-silver. The walls, three metal, one glass. White, sterile, ugly light. An empty chair across from him and..beside the seat he had once occupied..the can of Tupari he'd set aside when she passed it to him. The memory of her departure came again as he picked it up, holding it in his left hand.

"Take care, Kolyat"

The door swishes closed.

I've failed.

Looking at it, his fingers tightened.

"Take care, Kolyat"

The door swishes closed.

I've failed.

Further, and further.

"Take care, Kolyat"

The door swishes closed.

I've failed.

Until it ruptured..and fizzing green painted his hand, forearm and the shined tip of his left boot.

In that instant, his temper snapped. Heedless of the people passing by outside the windows, he reared around on his axis and, with a roar of frustration so loud it made the glass vibrate, hurled the decimated can across the room.

It had all been for nothing.

He'd failed.

Again.

* * *

><p>Author's note the second: Hi there 'coldwetn0se'. Thanks bunches for your kind review. I wanted to message you to answer your apt and well-placed question, but found that I couldn't because you came in as a guest. So! To answer your point re: Shepard knowing about Irikah being Thane's Siha; yes, she does know, as you rightly pointed out, because he'd told her in the past. In the moment its brought up by Kolyat in this chapter however, her long-term memory shorts on her a bit because of how on edge she is. She knee-jerks (selfishly) and makes an assumption that turns out to be wrong. I've added a little clarification in there based on your (and one of mine actually) favourite Thane quotes to make her knowledge a hint clearer. Ever so glad you're enjoying the story. I'm continuing it as I type.<p>

Cookies and thanks to all reviewers! Hearing from you all makes my day and inspires me a great deal.

And now!

_**Coming in the next instalment.**_

Sweet.

Gor'ram.

_Reunion_.

That is all.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: Greetings all and welcome to chapter 8. Now I know I usually use these notes to explain why I've been so late posting, but this time I don't think I've done too bad for time. Besides! I've come across a piece of music that I wanted to share with you, my lovely readers. It reminds me of Shepard and Thane (well ok, it reminds me of MY Shepard and Thane) so much, and I'd like to share the feels with you. It's called 'Dreams On Fire' and is by A.R. Rahman & Suzanne. It comes from the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack and is just epic. Give it a listen if you have a free few minutes. It melts my heart every time.

As always, reviews, thoughts, ideas and conjecture are cherished.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G_

* * *

><p><span>To be Whole<span>

_**A reunion is had, a prayer is read, and Thane expresses himself in a new-old way**_

To enter Huerta Memorial Hospital from the street, one must walk through two sets of sliding glass doors. Once those are breached, the main entrance hall, with its marble floors and high ceiling, spreads out for a clean ninety metres from left and right, and an easy seventy from the main doors to the reception desks that sit in a wide semi-circle by the back wall.

Between these two points, sunk into the floor at the centre of the room, stands a grand and opulent-looking fountain that was erected in honour of those lost to the Battle of the Citadel in 2183. It is a delicate thing, multi-layered and silver, that was designed, according to its plaque, by a panel of artists drawn from every race that was affected by Sovereign's assault on the station. As the water cascades down along its pre-set paths, certain resonances and harmonies, echoes like those heard when one rubs one's finger around the rim of a wine glass, can be made out by those with sharp enough ears - a gift left by the Hanar involved in its construction.

Although they never divulged how they did it, the artisans - face-name Koryll, face-name Ayllis, and face-name Nidaal - were lauded as geniuses for the effect.

All of this beauty however..the fountain's grand, curving height..the melodious ringing as the water flowed..and beyond that, the views of the Presidium given by the lofty windows..the well-appointed decorations and the scents, from the cafeteria nestled in the room's left and topmost corner, of lovingly prepared meals from various cultures..could not distract one particular denizen of the wide and open space, standing casually as he was by the fountain's right edge, from his watch.

Before Thane's vigilant eyes, the comings and goings of the people entering and leaving the hospital were almost constant.

_Incoming_, he thought, taking in the newest arrivals as they came through the doors, _three Asari, arriving together_.

_Incoming_, _a Human male_, _alone and in uniform_.

..

..

_Incoming_, _a Volus_. _Given the clipboard_, _I'd wager he is a courier_.

..

_Outgoing_, _two Humans_, _both male_, _speaking of a cigarette break between treatments_.

_Outgoing_, _an Asari nurse and a Human female_. _Colleagues_, _presumably_.

This had been his lot for the past seven minutes. Watching. Waiting. Hoping for a sign of the only person on the Citadel that he wanted to see at this present moment in time.

His Siha.

His mate.

Looking down at his Omni-tool, he checked the time for the third time since he had forsaken his private room for the Hospital's foyer.

[13:41] it read.

..

He frowned uneasily.

As of now, she was eleven minutes overdue at the very least.

His mate was a woman for whom five minutes _early_ was five minutes late, so this was highly irregular.

_This_..was actually beginning to worry him.

What was making things all the worse was that he simply couldn't contact her. After their brief tête à tête over the AICS in the earliest of this morning's hours, the radio silence they agreed upon had fallen and was being studiously maintained.

..

By Amial at least.

To his credit, Thane broke it only momentarily - logging in at [13:32] to see if she was available.

She had not been, and as he re-checked now..

..three clicks bringing the program up on his Omni-tool's user interface..

..yes..she remained off the grid.

With a disquieted huff, he turned back to his watch and tried to settle his mind. He reminded himself that the messages and conversations they had shared during their week apart had been as highly encoded as it was possible for such things to be, and that they not only had firewalls and the AICS's double-encryption protocols on their side, but also the goodwill and assistance of the most advanced AI in the galaxy. Because of these things, there was no way that the records of their communications could have fallen into nefarious hands. No way that Amial could have been tracked by some mole and brought to grief on her way to meet him.

These certainly were compelling points, but as he glanced at his Omni-tool's clock again.. ..noting that it was [13:42] now.. ..and then looked out to find no sign of her, they rang hollow. His worry beginning to become acute, Thane came to a decision. She had until [13:50] to reach the hospital. After that..he would need to do something more active in seeking her out than simply affecting calm as he waited were he stood. Resolved, he cast his nets wide again and got back to posting sentry.

_Incoming, _he noted, _a Turian_; _civilian going on the lack of armour_, _and limping heavily_. _A recent casualty of some brawl or other most likely_.

..

_Incoming_, _an Asari_ _dressed in purple with a lightly-marked face_.

_Outgoing_, _two Humans_, _one male_, _the other female_. _Voices raised in anger_.

A glance down for his Omni-tool..

[13:43]

..and then back to the doors and the street beyond their see-through panes.

_Incoming_, _a group of five Humans wearing unkempt Alliance __uniforms_. _The faint scent of alcohol follows them as they pass_. _They're making good use of their furlough it seems_.

..

_Incoming_, _another Turian_, _this one wearing armour_. _No visible injuries or impediments_. _Likely a visitor_.

_Incoming, a lone Human female. Dark haired, with the shadows of old bruises on her face and a distinct limp. She is carrying what looks like a small carry-out beverage. Perhaps she is a patient coming back after a walk to the local coffee-house. I can empathise with her need to get out._

_.._

_.._

_Outgoing, two Salarians. Physicians both, certainly. They're wearing hospital whites._

Another glance down..

..[13:45] now..

..and again, back to the watch.

_Incoming_, _a pair of Asari_. _Both are smartly dressed and seem to be in a hurry_. _More_ _visitors perhaps..seeking out a loved one who is either patient or refugee_.

Then, while the doors remained open as these most recent entrants passed through, the piecemeal crowd Thane could see going on its way in the street beyond the hospital seemed to swell. Well used to the area as he was, he knew the cause. The elevators which connected the thoroughfare that lead past Huerta to the rest of the Presidium couldn't have been seventy metres away from the hospital's main doors. When a number of them emptied at once, the ensuing exodus was reminiscent, at least in his mind, of Kahje's great tide coming in.

That same rush came now, as he watched. The pink and blue and silver crowd swelled, and he fought, given their numbers, to keep an effective eye on those who began to head in his direction.

The sight was misleading.

There were a number of services beside the hospital's front, the sector's rapid transit station to name but one, which drew people from the main bulk of the crowd. Something like three fifths of those that looked to be approaching him broke off before they entered the area he was actively keeping an eye on, but slowly people began to filter through, and this time, as the clock ticked over to [13:47], his vigilance was rewarded.

Of the twenty-odd people making up the newest assortment on their way into the hospital, one stood out. One he could tell from absolutely millions.

_Amial..thank Arashu.._

His heart leapt at the sight of her.. ..black hair, tousled..eyes fixed forward, on her destination, not on him..set shoulders and long strides..clad in black leather on top and canvas below..seemingly heedless of how the people around her automatically gave her a respectful three-foot berth.. ..but he caught himself before the excitement and relief he felt could become outwardly visible. Much as his first and principle instinct was to simply _**go **_to her, he knew that in this moment, in this situation, he couldn't. If he did, and the malefactor his training-guarded mind told him might, against all odds, have been able to track either him or his Siha here, all of the anonymity-saving machinations they had gone through in the days leading up to now would be for nought.

What he could do though, prior to making his way back to his quarters to receive her in the absolute privacy they would need for a proper reunion, was catch her eye. He had done this precise thing - shared a glance with her and led her through a space, usually the ship's mess, towards some private nook where they could steal a moment together during an otherwise fraught day - many times during their first tour together, and knew that she'd recognise his intentions here if he played his cards right.

His plan set, he stood up from his spot by the fountain and planted himself causally within his quickly approaching mate's field of view. He watched her face closely, particularly her eyes, knowing that she'd sense his gaze and seek its source after a few moments of carefully maintained attention. With each step she took towards him, she became more and more aware, frowning and looking around suspiciously until..

Contact.

Blue eyes met green and through that connection, in the single brief moment it was maintained, he was made perfectly and unalterably Whole. That piece of himself that resided in her was returned by her presence..by their shared knowledge of each other..and by the look on her face when she felt it too.

That bond.

That _Wholeness_.

What he felt in his heart flickered through her expression..lighting it up like the sunrise paints the morning sky..but only for a fleeting second. She was as conscious as he was of their being in the open..of their needing privacy..and when he turned away after that formative moment, going against every instinct he had and moving away from that which made him Whole, she knew, as he knew she would, to follow his lead discretely.

Her entire body singing with excitement and anticipation, Shepard moved into their old, long established rhythm for getting out of public view as though it was second nature. She carried on straight past Thane and the gracile fountain he stood by, and cast her gaze up to the information boards on the wall above the front desk.

After a breath or two was spent giving them a once over, she glanced around and saw her beau making his way towards what she knew from experience was the corridor that lead to the Patients' Lounge. Keeping sight of him was easy, he being the only Drell she could see in the area, and she watched as he sluiced with absolute ease through the room and its milling occupants - not a whisper of tension or excitement coming across in his gait. To everyone else who saw him there, he was simply getting on with his day, much like they were, and Shepard, as he slipped out of sight into the corridor, took a final quick glance at the information boards before moving to follow him.

She forced herself to stroll slowly, casually, as she pondered on their likely destination. There could be only one really. She knew from knowing him that in order to be comfortable letting his guard down, he would need to be able to control access to the space he was leading her to, and here in the hospital there was but one place he could do that.

His private room.

Making sure to maintain a relaxed façade, she ran through the directions in her head. _Into the corridor_, she thought, breaching said corridor and ambling along it in Thane's wake; his retreating form just visible as he made tracks down the sparsely appointed space ahead of her.

_Then it's into the Lounge through the door at the end of the hall_..

_After that_, _straight on through the Lounge itself..past the reception desk and on through the clinical area_..

_Then it's a sharp right, then a left..and down another corridor..then a final right..and his door's the third along on my immediate right_..

Smiling first to herself as her beau opened the Lounge's door and allowed a clearly ailing Asari through ahead of him, and then to him when he chanced a look back along the corridor and caught her eye for another brief second before he got back on his way, Shepard sucked in a breath and did her best to master herself lest she succumb to an excitement-born moment of uselessness right there in the hall.

It was a hard task.

Her heart was pounding..

Her hands were shaking, sweating..

Her stomach had tied itself in a knot..

Her strides were becoming short and jittery..

The wait was absolute _**torture**_..but it would be over very, very soon.

It wasn't even a five minute walk from here to his room and then..then..

She swallowed a hum of gleeful exuberance before it could escape and show her up right then and there, dawdled purposefully by a notice board tacked to the wall on her immediate left, and then slipped through the Lounge's door a clear twenty seconds after Thane had. Instinctively, she checked the room's corners, left, then right, and then scanned the small clusters of people dotted about the place as she moved on through. Nothing out of the ordinary presented itself, her mate's broad back was still in sight, and she was a hair away from stepping from the Lounge proper into the clinical area sitting abreast of it when a familiar voice called to her.

"Shepard!" it said. "Hey, Shepard!"

She pulled up as soon as she heard her name, Thane disappearing from view around a corner as she turned, masking her mortification at being thrown off her stride as well as she could as the person wanting of her attention hurriedly approached her. "Williams" she greeted, shaking her free hand - the other being presently occupied by what looked like a carry-out cup of something hot - after a moment of slight but certainly present hesitation. The ghosts of Horizon and Shepard's seeming 'betrayal' lingered near both women still. "I didn't think you'd be up and about yet."

"More or less" the still slightly haggard-looking woman replied, cocking a slight grin and slipping her unoccupied hand into the pocket of the open fleece she had on over her day-to-day fatigues. "I'm allowed out of the hospital in short bursts now" she explained, tipping her cup slightly as she added, "Just came back from a walk to the local java-house."

"That's fantastic" Shepard grinned, genuinely pleased, despite her private and desperate need to slip off with her beau, to hear of her one-time colleague's progress. When last she'd seen her, she'd barely been able to sit up unaided let alone hike out to the local of her choice, so this was good news indeed. "They given you a release date yet?"

"Not yet" Williams huffed, rolling her eyes and forcing a breath between her lips. "The doctors always seem to have one more test they want to do. One more course of something or other they want me to take."

"Yeah, I know what that's like."

"Yeah.."

Silence came between the women then, their conversations since being reacquainted on Earth having lost the natural flow they'd once enjoyed. As the elephant in the room..Ashley's remaining discomfort with Shepard's once-'alliance' with Cerberus and Shepard's resentment at being branded a traitor by a women she'd once considered a close friend..threatened to trumpet anew, the Commander saw her chance, took a half-step back and, giving her former sister-in-arms a little smile, tried, "Well, I'll jus-" only to be cut off by the arrival of a very welcome face.

"Oh Commander, you've made it!" a gleeful Karin Chakwas beamed as she came over. "And Commander Williams" she added, turning and giving Ashley a glowing smile and a warm handshake, "It's lovely to see you dear."

"You too doc" Williams grinned, flicking a glance at Shepard as the woman seemed to back up a step or two and made to get around their newly arrived old friend. She was about to ask her where the heck she was scuttling off to, but the doctor spoke first.

"Commander, I just saw-"

"I know" Shepard cut in, glancing towards the path her mate had taken a couple of minutes prior. "I'm going to-"

"Bring him out here when you find him won't you? Our meeting is over now, so he's all set for his transfer" Karin said, nodding as the Commander became doubly tense with excitement and breathed a nervy 'Yeah' before addressing Williams. "Sorry Ash. Got a thing to get to, double-time. I'll be out again in a bit. If you're still about, we'll catch up then, ok? It was great to see you."

Taken aback at the sudden change of circumstances, Ashley gave a slightly boggled nod as Shepard turned and high-tailed it out of sight through the clinical area of the wing. Shaking her head once and blinking her eyes clear, she caught Chakwas's eye, quirked a brow, and asked the first question that came to mind.

"Who's 'him'?"

Karin smiled. "Sit down, dear" she said, gesturing to the nearest pair of seats available. "This might take a little while to explain."

* * *

><p>There was no sign of Thane when Shepard finally got back underway, her brief stop with the former Chief Williams adding a couple of minutes to the lead he had on her, but that didn't matter overmuch. He would either be waiting at an inconspicuous point along the way to further guide her, or would have made it to his room and, knowing that she knew his mind as well as she did, would be waiting for her there.<p>

Putting on a little speed and making her walk purposeful, she took the first right she came to, eyes alert and attentive for signs of her mate's presence, and strode down the cluttered and bustling corridor with much the same intensity she'd had when she was sidelined by Kolyat a half hour back. She lingered on their chat for the briefest moment, but pushed away the swell of emotions and questions it raised within her and drew a single conclusion that was pertinent to the here and now.

She would tell him about it, but not yet.

Not in their early moments together.

Heck, perhaps not even today.

There was so much yet to happen, so many changes and moves and little stresses and suchlike to come that heaping talk of Kolyat and his desperation to keep him from leaving on top would likely overburden all concerned, and she couldn't have that. Not now, when everything she never thought would come real _was_.

Rounding the second corner and finding the corridor that stretched in front of her likewise free of her beau, she resolved, _Tomorrow_. _I'll tell him tomorrow_. _After he's had a night in his own bed and a chance to settle and unwind_, and told herself that, _I'll have been able to mull over what Kolyat told me by then, and will be less likely to kneejerk_.

She wasn't sure if she believed herself, rattled as she was by the entire experience, but she gave doing so her best shot.

Shaking off her brief and perfunctory bout of Kolyat-induced-melancholia, she checked her surroundings again for any sign of Thane. Again she found none, but noticed for the first time that the corridor she was walking through was a residential one. Private rooms nestled behind each of the doors she passed on her left and right, and she managed a nod or two and the occasional smile when she came across patients and a couple of itinerant nurses who passed her by on their way to some other part of the hospital.

Narrowly escaping being 'invited' by one of said nurses into an impromptu autographing session on the children's ward, she ducked around the third and final corner and found herself, quite suddenly and without preamble, within three doors of her mate's soon-to-be-former quarters. Realising this brought the excitement that had been quelled somewhat by the journey she'd had to take to get here back full force. It made her belly clench, her heart pound, and her palms sweat anew, and with every step she took closer to her goal the feeling redoubled.

By the time she actually made it to Thane's door, she was so overwrought that she stalled twice in her attempts at knocking before, having dragged her hands through her hair and wiped her palms off on her trouser-legs, she plucked up the moxy to press the 'bell' button on the cheery red interface.

She couldn't just barge in after all.

Expecting her or not, she knew his mind and his training. Everyone that entered his space, be it the rough six feet he claimed as his personal space or his private quarters, was checked to the same standard..assessed in ways he had been conditioned from boyhood to adhere to..and they came into that process a lot more positively if he was given a warning about their arrival than if they barrelled in and pounced for him. Thus, much as barrelling in and pouncing for him was what she _wanted_ to do..and what she would have done had she been unaware of his mental checks and balances..she waited the second it took for the door to hiss open and tempered her exuberance consciously before making her entrance.

A wall of welcoming heat met her as she stepped through the promptly opened doorway, though Thane himself was not immediately present to greet her. He was in the room, certainly..she could feel his eyes on her..but he was not standing within her line of sight as she walked in.

This came as no shock to her.

Never in all the time she'd known him had her beau answered a door while being within an arm's reach of it. In her experience, he quite literally favoured a remote approach; using a remote hacking device to manipulate a door's functions so that he could permit whomever had come to see him without risking immediate physical harm should they mean him ill.

To someone who knew nothing of him, such behaviour would seem more paranoid than practical, but to Shepard it was simply another part of the man she loved. Granted it wasn't her favourite part..those old habits his training had forced into him sitting well down her list of his virtues simply because they weren't actually _his_..but she accepted it just as readily as she did his most becoming traits.

Between them, it could be no other way.

Scanning the room quickly in search of her errant mate, she found him beside his now spartan bed. Straight-backed and focused, the remote held in his fingers, he was the picture of readiness when first their eyes met, though allowed his expression to soften visibly when, at his instruction, the door hissed closed and locked at her back - relief replacing the tension that had owned him during the journey he'd lead her on.

For a protracted moment they remained as they were, a smirk much like that which had begun curving her lips finding his when she asked, "Expecting trouble?" with the only ounce of wry sarcasm that the sight of him hadn't robbed from her.

"Always" he replied, playing along with her affected glibness until, after mere seconds, they could no longer pretend to simply be 'Shepard' and 'Thane' to one another. Silence came as they gave up the struggle, public masks of calm indifference giving way to what was their truth, and they drank in the sight of their respective other-halves across the nine or so feet that parted them; that ever-welcome feeling of Wholeness redoubling now that, out of the gaze of all and sundry, it was allowed to roam free.

They remained thus for two breaths.

Then need got the best of them both.

The remote, having now served its purpose, was discarded swiftly, and Thane came to her as she did to him; her blissful smile and joyous laugh met by a word, "Siha.." and a deep, thoroughly Drellish exclamation of delight. Their hands, reaching forth in welcome and urgency, touched first, then stroked up along their forearms as the distance between them was diminished to inches. Stepping into each other's space then, their arms came around each other and their lips met..and finally.._finally_..in the perfect privacy of his room..every whisper of distance that had been forced between them over a week back simply..

..vanished.

After their first, two further kisses were quickly shared - each finished hastily so the next might come. Then, as the last ended and Thane, seeking the warmth of her skin and a moment to collect himself, dipped his face to her neck, a sigh of relief that came up from her toes carried words from the gleeful and trembling woman's lips.

"_Oh, thank __**God**_.."

She couldn't quite believe it.

Despite - or perhaps thanks to - all of their paranoid caution, there had been no great calamity that would have kept them apart. No mole or malefactor or unforeseen circumstance that would prove this, their too good to be true reality, to be nothing but wishful thinking and pipedreams.

They'd made it.

They were really here.

It was something like a minute before Shepard, tucked as she was against her beau's body, had calmed enough to register anything about their embrace but the feeling of him; of his arms, strong and firm around her; of the softness of his eyelids and the bridge of his nose pressed between her neck and shoulder; and of his breathing..

..Dear **GODS** his _breathing_..

She was fixed on it.

Riveted by it.

Every inhalation was deep and steady, and every exhalation easy and without a hitch, pause or suggestion of difficulty. The rattle his chest had once had as his illness progressed was gone now, replaced instead by..something..something that drew her attention back from the utter bliss she felt at being with him again to the here and now.

In many ways this new odd _something_ was much akin to one of those low buzzing rumbles of his..the ones that she first experienced when she visited him a week back and that her ears had to work to catch..but now, as she pressed herself close to him and really listened, she could sense a difference. The sound was still difficult on her ears, but it was deeper now, and unlike her first experience of its 'quieter' incarnation, which had simply given her goose bumps, it was physically tangible to her. If she had to compare it to anything, she'd be torn between the feeling of touching an amplifier during a set in a club, and the one you get when you cup a hand around your throat and hum.

Equal parts enthralled and puzzled by the rumbling, resonant turn her mate seemed to have taken, she eased a half inch between them and murmured, "Thane?" in her most tender, loving tone. The response she got - a slight tightening of his arms about her, a gentle suckle upon her throat and a, "Hhhmmm?" that she'd swear she felt in her _bones _- caught her off guard, and she gasped and clutched at him as he raised his head and met her eyes.

And that look..that contact..made words very difficult for her.

"I.."..she tried, only to have the thought she'd wanted to convey flitter away when she felt his breath wisp over her lips. Valiantly, she gave it another shot, but was lost as she drew breath to speak. She got no further than repeating, "..I.." before she was leaning for him and he for her, their eyes closing; her fingertips reverently tracing the edges of the pleating on his throat as they shared their first proper kiss..not a rushed peck now, a real lover's kiss..in over a week.

It was a breathless thing for them; excitement and roaring affection turning their first touch of lips to lips into their second and third without pause or hesitation, and then into their fourth through which they were offered a taste of each other when their tongues, bold and so _welcome_, met and caressed. They remained lost in one another for a count of minutes neither cared to specify, though the length of time spent mattered for nothing. Were it two minutes or ten, their absolution remained the same, and they only broke apart when some small portion of it was, for the moment, sated enough to allow them a pause for breath.

Their brows lightly touched together as the moment cooled, Thane gathered enough of his wits to stroke a travel-mussed lock of his mate's hair behind her left ear, catching her attention with the gesture before speaking to her, his voice made newly rich by their closeness.

"Had you a question, Siha?" he asked, tracing her jaw tenderly with the pad of his thumb, "Or was your intent in speaking my name simply to.." He left his conjecture unfinished verbally, though leant, his fingers now used to tilt her chin up a hint to allow him to press a fifth kiss to her lips. This one, unlike the others, was chaste and light, and was answered, after being returned in kind, by a helpless smile and a gentle nuzzle of her comparatively well defined nose-tip to his flatter more delicate one.

"Just..just give me a minute.." Shepard managed, her voice soft and carrying an intimacy-born rasp much like that Thane's did. Her eyes heavy-lidded and lips so close to his that she could feel them brushing hers with every word she spoke, she took a moment to simply soak in what she was feeling. To let the affection in her soul warm her through and make itself at home in a way it hadn't been brave enough to before now.

'Before' she had always been guarded. Not with her emotions exactly..she loved him plainly and had done for over a year now..but with how deeply she let herself acknowledge how much she felt for him.

The feeling was there.

It quite simply was what it was.

There was no deception or double-speak.

But way back when, he wasn't going to make it. He was dying. And while that fact changed nothing of her affection for him, it made it necessary for her to protect her heart in every way she could in preparation for losing him. They had lived day-to-day, and then hour-to-hour as his condition worsened, and in that time she'd never let herself dwell on that wondrous and fantastic thing that every person who is part of a settled couple likes to dwell on.

The future.

On plans and possibilities.

The sad fact was that there were none back then.

Now though..they were no longer on borrowed time. She could think and imagine, postulate and wonder, and yes there was a war on, but right in this moment, as she felt her love breathing against her..felt his hands, strong but so gentle, stroking her back as he basked in the warmth of her body..she felt invincible, and that invincibility was subsumed and defined by one particular thing that would be happening today.

Closing her eyes tightly, she buried her face against her beau's neck and let out a silent scream of bliss and exhilaration. As he moved to accommodate her, appreciating the curve of her lower back and the tension in her muscles in ways that were reserved for him alone, she nestled as closely to him as she could comfortably manage before speaking again. Needing to share the cause of her glee with him even though she was damn sure he knew about it already.

"Thane?" she hushed, wispy, excited laughter edging her words as she clutched at him. "_Thane_? Did you know?"

"Know what, love?" he asked, her apparent amusement tickling him enough to bring an audible smile to his tone. He dipped his head against hers under the pretence of listening more closely for her answer, though he had no real need to. The softness of her hair against his face was what he sought with the movement, not a clearer vantage point to listen from.

Feeling him draw near, she leant up a little, giving her temple to his jaw and a gentle squeeze to his torso before tamping down on the urge to squeal girlishly and enthusing, "You're going _home_ today!" as if she were imparting some wondrous secret.

For that reason, in this second, she may as well have been immortal.

It felt _that_ damn good to say it and hear it said.

And better yet, her bliss was catching.

There was nothing in the galaxy that could've kept Thane from laughing then; his happiness at the truth of her words rivalled only by his relief that they were finally, after almost eight months of hell and a week of necessary but hated aloneness, with one another again. Throaty and deep, the sound came as he redoubled their embrace, gathering her so completely against himself that, as he straightened up to his full height, he took her with him; worried chastisements about him straining himself..

"Careful careful careful! Mind your _back_! And your _chest_!"

..replacing her giggling levity as her toes dangled an easy inch and a half off the floor.

"I am well, Siha" he soothed, his hold upon her firm and his stance steady as he held her aloft. The feat was hardly one at all for him, truly. Not now. Drellish muscles are at the very least half again as dense as Human ones, and while his shoulders and lower back complained quietly to themselves, noting that a woman who was three fourths muscle, loved or not, was no small thing to lift after months of little more than gentle exercise, simply holding her like he was didn't put an excessive strain on him.

He could manage this, he concluded, if it meant having her so thoroughly pressed against him for as long as she would allow him to keep her close.

Worried for him as she was, that didn't turn out to be long.

After about a half minute, and at her insistence, she was set lightly back on her feet, though her fretful scolding was gentled to little more than a slight glare and a huffed, "Show off" by her mate's disarming smile and his seeming comfort after the exertion it took to lift her. He smirked at her tone, embracing her once more and replying, "Never" before setting his mind to distracting her from her pique and returning to the question she'd posed him prior to her little trip. "And as to returning home, yes, I did know. Could you not sense my impatience in the lobby?"

"I could" she replied distractedly, more concerned with making sure that he really was feeling well after her impromptu flight than with thinking on their very public reunion-by-sight. Needing in some deep place within herself to make sure, she curled her arms about him and ran her fingers in a firm but considerate trail from the base of his skull to the small of his back - pressing and massaging as best she could through the light shirt he wore in search of sore spots. Thankfully for her nerves and conscience, the only groan her attentions were met with was one of enjoyment - this being obvious from how, as it escaped him, he gave her throat a kiss in thanks for her efforts - and once she was satisfied that all was as it should be, she turned her attention back to dealing with an important issue his mentioning the lobby brought up.

Her being late.

Mindful of keeping her moment with Kolyat out of public knowledge for now, she added, "I'm sorry I was late. Got held up" and hoped that he wouldn't deign it necessary to probe into what precisely had kept her. She wouldn't lie if he asked her straight out, honesty always going over better with him than benevolent fibs, even if it caused a bit of stress, but luckily he took her explanation for what it was and let it be.

Truly, he had more pressing issues occupying his mind at present than the cause of a fifteen minute delay.

"You need not apologise" he assured her. "I sought your safe return to me, is all..and now.." Lowering his voice fractionally, he brought his lips close to her ear. "You're _here_..and I doubt there is a happier man than I in the galaxy at this moment in time."

She hummed appreciatively at his words, the unease that thoughts of lying-by-omission and his exertions moments ago had brought on vanishing as she rubbed her hands along his back again, open-palmed this time, to help impress quite how 'here' she was. "But _Gods_ do I know that feeling" she enthused, settling against him comfortably and giving a grateful murmur when she felt his hands mimic the path her own had taken on his back on hers. Relaxing there, utterly at peace with the galaxy, it took her a moment to realise that something was missing. The deep and resonant 'hum-buzz' that she could feel and only just hear was conspicuous by its absence now, and while she was as content as the cat that got the cream to let Thane decide when and how he expressed himself, she had to wonder.

Carefully, loathe as she was to disturb the peace they'd found within each other's arms, she shifted against him, welcoming his hands at her lower back and putting just enough space between them to allow her to press hers to his chest; feeling for _it_ as she noted, "..I could have sworn I felt..It's gone now.."

It took effort for him to reply, lost as he was in the feel of her. "It, love?"

Considering her options briefly, she drew in a breath and then, inspired by her earlier thoughts on the matter, guided her beau's right hand up to her throat. Laying his palm lightly against it, she explained, "It was like this.." before humming a few bars of the Alliance's anthem to facilitate her example. "The feeling" she said, touching her hands to his chest again. "The..humming..buzzing..whatever it is. That feeling was all over here."

As he listened to her explain what she'd felt, Thane gently though pointedly slipped his hand from her throat and settled it back on her lower back. The movement was clothed as a courtesy, as a polite gesture to ensure her comfort, but that alone was not the reason he did it. He would never be comfortable with the sight of his hands at her neck. Not palm-in at least. The backs of his fingers and his fingertips he could forgive for their need to caress her there, but his palms? His curled fingers? No. They had threatened too many necks in their time to be allowed near hers of his own volition - irrespective of his utter and complete disinclination to do her harm of any kind.

To her curiosity however, he had a question of his own. "You could hear me, yes?" he asked, puzzling her if the slight frown and the wrinkling of her nose was anything to go by.

"Hear you?" she repeated, "I heard..something, yeah. Like a.." She paused, her brows low with concentration, searching for a workable comparison. "Like a cross between a hum and a buzz, but.." Seeing his lips quirk in a grin, she swallowed her original thought and chuckled.

After all the time she'd spent around him..learning of him as a person..of his people and their ways.. she still made such an amateurish mistake.

"That's not the noise you were making, was it" she concluded, his long-past instruction on the main differences between their kinds coming back to her in a rush. "You were out of my range and that bit was all I caught."

Thane gave a nod. "Let me show you" he offered, clasping her hands in his and flattening them against his lower-chest. For a moment he simply breathed, slowly and deeply, the knowing look in his eye letting her know that her enchantment with the sensation was both known of and appreciated. Then, after a particularly deep breath, he dipped his chin slightly, exhaled slowly, and both the noise and the resonance returned; the former to her ears, the latter beneath her palms.

"That's it!" she crowed, beaming as she fanned her fingers a little wider to better feel him. "What is that? What're you doing?"

Finishing his lengthy exhalation, both noise and feeling easing with its passing, Thane sought an answer for her. "Tell me" he began, "You would recognise a loving tone of voice, yes?"

She favoured him with a cock-eyed grin. "Of course."

"And a look conveying the same?" As he spoke, he looked upon her in just the manner he described, warming his expression with the affection he felt for her. "A loving..contented look? You recognise one when you see it?"

Wetting her lips, her cheeks just a hint warmer for his attentions, she nodded, returning his gaze. "I'm looking at one" she said, leaning up a little to bring her lips within lingering distance of his jaw. Her intention wasn't to kiss him. The gesture was one she'd learned from him during one of their many and varied talks about their respective peoples and their..courting habits. According to Thane, leaning in and lingering in this particular manner was something a female Drell would do to show appreciation for a gentleman's colours - the contrast between the predominant scale colour and the hue of one's cheeks and throat being one of the numerous qualities in a man that is prized by the fairer of the Drellish sexes.

Although she obviously didn't share the genetic predisposition to finding such contrasts attractive in the way a female Drell would, the gesture lost none of its import between she and her beau. It was not empty, or a feeble attempt at being something she plainly wasn't.

It was a gesture he recognised; that translated perfectly for him. One that was given by her as an honest expression of how she cared for and admired him.

It _meant_.

It carried weight.

And it was damn fun too, flirting with him like this.

Keeping her own (distinctly un-Drellish) appreciation for her mate's colours in mind, her honest favourites being the blackness around his eyes and the soft almost-but-not-quite pinkish hue on the very inner edges of his lips, she finished her thought with a coy, "..and I'm giving one back.." and withdrew once more to talking distance as her now flattered beau demurely tilted his head to the left, then the right, replying to her flirtation with one of his own.

Showing off his colours for her as any rightly proud Drellish gentleman would when complimented by his lady.

"You are" he mused, admiring her just as openly as she had him before going on with his explanation. "And as easily as I can perceive that..through your expression..your actions..a Drell would detect my intentions towards them when they heard my voice."

"Your.."

"Here, love" he said, breathing into her hands again and giving what to him was a perfectly audible expression that she felt through her palms. "This.." and again he did it..gave another breath's-worth of 'communication'.. "is as much my voice as the words you hear me speak now."

"So it's..talking?" she tried, not sure if she was following precisely. Although she'd learnt a good deal from him about his people, this particular mode of communication had never come up. Since it was such a pivotal-sounding thing, she had to wonder at the omission, but lost out on pointing it out when he spoke to correct her.

"Not quite. Recall what I mentioned a moment ago. It is akin to an expression, or a tone of voice. There are no actual words spoken, but the tone, much as a frown or a smile would, implies meaning that a Drell would recognise. It's part of our language, you see."

The pieces coming together in her mind, Shepard breathed an intrigued, "_Ohh_.." before finding her feet a little in this new knowledge and making a slightly clumsy observation. "The..expression..you showed me just then..It was really..I mean I couldn't hear much..Just the..hum-buzz noise that my ears don't miss..But it felt..loud..and I don't have a clue how something can _feel_ loud.." Fumbling over her description, she flushed faintly as her beau gave a soft and mirthful huff.

"My people are often perceived as stoic, Siha" he said. "Few take the time to realise that what we do not show often on our faces, we vocalise; particularly where emotion is involved. We are a..noisy race, if you will, but are sparing with overt facial expressions unless we are in the company of non-Drell with whom we are comfortable. In that sense, we are like the Hanar; reserved amongst outsiders, yet warm, vocally and otherwise, with those we know. It just so happens that few can actually hear us."

"I got the loud part right then!" she grinned, adding, "And I know you make an effort for me" as she touched her fingertips to his lips to caress the slight smile that curved them. In truth, the legendary Drellish stoicism was something that had come along as a talking point early on in their relationship, and she knew, and had known for over a year, that her mate consciously made himself more..humanly approachable for her in terms of expressing his emotions facially.

It was a habit she was both grateful for, and felt a stab of guilt over at once.

Even though he'd sworn up and down that it was second nature to him and nothing like a bother, the thought of him working to ensure her comfort in a manner that, to his people, was at the very least foreign, made her appreciate him all the more and work to learn what she could of his people's etiquette so she could accommodate him in turn.

Hence, amongst other things, her occasional forays into flirting like a female Drell.

With curiosity and learning in mind, she took the chance to dig a little deeper. "I wonder though. Why haven't I heard..er..felt this kind of thing before? I've known you for over a year, and I would've thought.." Noticing the slightly uneasy cast his expression took at her remark, she backtracked quickly. "I mean, I noticed it a little when I first came to see you but..Tell me I'm stupid for missing it, please. You know me and how I tunnel-vision when I'm stressed out of my mind."

"No no" he soothed, "You missed nothing. I.." In a rare moment of uncertainty with his words, he huffed out a soft breath, knowing that what he was about to say would unsettle her. "This mode of expression" he began, "requires a healthy pair of lungs. As my illness progressed, I began to lose the ability, and lacked it entirely for many years. Gladly however, as my health has returned, I have been able to rediscover it in increments."

Though she tried to hide it, she winced, the omission of this form of communication from their long past talks about his people suddenly making perfect sense to her. With that understanding came a wave of absolute mortification and a caustically unforgiving mental tirade.

_Of all the brainless things to say, _she berated herself._ Good __**God**__ Shepard you can't half act the f%kin' putz at times_. _Didn't you notice the __**deep f$%kin' breath**__ he took before he did it? Didn't the dots connect?_

Gladly wallowing in her (well deserved) pit of self-deprecation, she pinched her eyes closed, leant forward and touched her brow gently against her mate's chest. The words that followed were a darn sight cleaner than what she'd thought to herself moments prior. "I've got to be the most _dense_.." she sighed, shaking her head beneath the hand her beau lightly cupped at its back. Looking up at him then, she apologised. "I'm sorry. I didn't even th-"

"Amial" he cut in, hushing her with both his words and a touch to her jaw. "You mishear me." Taking another readying breath, he 'spoke' again; the oddly sonorous sensation felt, as it had been, through where she touched his chest with her hands. "I _was_ unable.." he said as he exhaled, the words seeming to echo faintly since he spoke them while 'speaking' in this new-old way, "..but am no longer. Rejoice in this. Don't linger on memories you can do nothing to change."

"Says the man" she rejoined, "who I've known to spend days dwelling on one thing or another."

Quick as a whip and hoping to appease her, Thane replied through a little smile. "Do as I say, not as I do."

"Oh?" she mused, brows raising now, her moment of mortified contrition slowly easing. "And what did you say Sere? When you held me before and spoke those pretty things I can feel but can't hear right."

Her mate did nothing to mask the deeply affectionate cast his expression took as he enlightened her. "I was telling you that I love you" he murmured, drawing her close once more as she gave a pleased gasp and beamed up at him, "in the manner any right-minded Drellish man would tell the object of his affections that very thing."

"I love you _back_" she enthused, embracing him as she revelled at his message and wondered at its delivery. She wanted to convey the same to him in just as special a manner, but the buzzing rumble that she now knew translated as affection wasn't something she could emulate. Curious then, she rephrased her declaration as a slightly breathy question. "How..would a Drellish lady say 'I love you back'?"

A new swell of that felt-but-mostly-unheard tone came up from Thane's chest as he took a breath, replying with utter and complete sincerity. "Just like that."

Her lips open, a soft laugh escaping, Ami nestled against him and held him to her as she spoke a mirth-tinged, "I _love_ you" that was wholly heartfelt.

He knew, of course. Had heard the very thing from her not a breath or two ago. But, if only for the joy of saying it and hearing it said, it needed repeating.

"And I love you" Thane replied, smiling into his love's neck and curling his body against her. For a long moment they remained still, content to simply souse in each other's presence and the fact that, Gods willing, they wouldn't need to be parted again for an appreciable period of time. Then though, over her shoulder, a mess upon his table caught his eye and drew a low, almost scathing chuff from his throat.

He had been so on edge after his lunch, the time for his mate's arrival having been closing in on him, that he'd fallen into one of her habits - giving his hands something to do while he waited by unpacking a small bag, sorting through its contents, and repacking it again. When her lateness became acute however, he'd abandoned the project and made for the lobby to keep watch, and the upshot of that was a markedly mussed tabletop and a bag that needed repacking before he could leave with her.

As he contemplated his folly, nestled now as he was in the rapture of his love's company, she shifted against him, raising her head to ask, "What was that now? I heard that one. That.." She gave a muted, throaty cough as her best approximation of a Drellish chuff, and turned in his arms when Thane nodded towards the object of his consternation. He seemed almost self-conscious, trailing off as he explained.

"I fear I was..hmm.."

Ami however knew what she was seeing. "You were _antsy_!" she laughed, shaking her head fondly at the sight of the gutted bag and its contents spread across the table. It was hardly an egregious mess, and was nothing to what she would have done had she been in his position, but compared to the state of the otherwise pristine room it certainly stood out.

Thane dipped his chin bashfully when she met his eyes again. "Yes" he said, "I was at that."

"I understand the feeling" she replied, drawing in a shallow breath through her nose and letting it out slowly. "I've been climbing the bloody walls all week. Needing to just.." Taking a careful hold of his sides, she curled her fingers, feeling him as she walked a half step forward and returning to his embrace fully; her chin coming to rest on his shoulder. "This. Just _this_, you know?"

His answering rumble of agreement, again, went right through to her bones, and she murmured a greatly affectionate, "I love you back" in answer to his felt-and-mostly-unheard expression of exactly that sentiment before gathering herself and, with immense difficulty, putting a bit of distance between them again.

It was just a pace though.

That's all she could manage in the 'not towards Thane' direction presently, and honestly even that felt like too much.

"Right then" she said, dropping her gaze to her hands briefly when, to accommodate the space between them without sacrificing physical contact, her beau slid his hands down her arms and took her hands in his. Caught in much the same manner she had been when her words failed her prior to their first proper kiss, it took her another try to make her vocabulary work for her.

"..Right..let's get you packed then, hm?" she prompted, giving his hands a tug and glancing towards the table. "If we don't get moving, poor Doctor Chakwas will be waiting for us for hours, and I promised her I'd hustle."

Thane smiled. "Then 'hustle' we shall" he replied, chuckling when she cocked a brow at his pointed mimicry and leading her over to the eviscerated bag and its once neatly packed contents. Opening it out fully to make re-filling it easier for them, he added, "Though I am sorely tempted to make this as drawn-out an exercise as possible."

With a curious frown, she eased the first of what turned out to be a portion of her mate's extensive collection of prayer books into the bag's main compartment. "Really? This from Mister Efficiency himself?" she smiled, "That's unlike you."

Her beau tilted his head slightly in question. "Is it? Knowing our circumstances, and the distance we will need to put between ourselves until we again find a private place to settle, wouldn't you want to prolong the time we have now as much as possible?"

"We'll have all the privacy in the universe when we get back to the Normandy" she promised, pulling up the nearest chair and settling to continue packing. The books were a treat for the fingers, paper-made and almost antique-looking as they were, and she slowed up consciously to try and give her beau as much of the reprieve from public life that he seemed to want as she could. "You sound like you're expecting a long afternoon" she added. "Know something I don't?"

He gave a short nod. "I spoke with Doctor Chakwas over lunch. Apparently my chief physician has made her aware of his keenness to go through my daily care routine with her not only in person, but in person aboard the Normandy."

"Oh you're kidding me.." she drew, her curiosity fast being replaced by frustration.

"How I wish I was, Siha. It is not a long procedure by any means. Administering the injections takes less than a minute, and the daily scans and further checks have never spanned over ten since my health has stabilised, but Doctor Pyral is a man who can turn a ten minute procedure into a three hour discussion.." He sighed softly, shaking his head. "Goddess if there is anywhere I would like to spend _**no**_ time today it is in the ship's medical bay."

Irked as she was by the thought of being banished from her beau's side while his doctors poked at him, Ami knew the situation had its up-sides. He'd be on the ship, for one. He'd be safe. He'd be receiving needed medical attention, and Doctor Chakwas would be getting even better at caring for him than she already was. She told him these things.. ..soothed and placated him as they worked, and was given in response a nod and a measured smile from her still greatly disaffected mate.. ..but the most pertinent up-side, that which interested her most, she kept to herself so she might surprise him later.

Her purchases from earlier in the day would very likely have made it to the ship by the time they finally returned to it. With him sequestered away in the medical bay, she would be free to unpack both them and his personal effects in his absence, and to put real time and effort into making his return as welcoming and comfortable as possible.

Contented by this knowledge, Ami welcomed her mate at her side as he too pulled up a chair, and turned her attention back to the items she was packing. The book she had in her fingers now was red-covered and slim, and while she'd been good up to now, simply packing them away one by one, this one called to her. Perhaps it was the colour..or the writing embossed into the cover, Drellish and foreign but beautiful to her..or the texture of the thing, rough and almost pebbled in areas..but she couldn't just set this one back into the bag without having a peek between its covers.

Pulling it into the open space on the table in front of her, she wiped her hands quickly on her trousers and tentatively, cautiously, opened the front cover. The paper within was weathered and thin, browned on the edges and corners by age and loving use, but elsewise absolutely immaculate. Minding to keep to their very edges as she turned each page with great care, she took in the neat lines of perfectly rendered Drellish script. Much like Chinese, the language was ideographic - symbols indicating whole words in place of them being pieced together from an alphabet of letters - and was read, she recalled from watching Thane when he had read to her in the past, in rows from left to right.

Though she quite plainly couldn't understand a word, Ami lingered on the page open before her and did her best to 'read' the symbols she saw; taking them in for what they were and appreciating the artistry of the text as a whole. There were only five lines in total, excluding what she assumed was the title at the top of the page, so it wasn't too onerous a task for her.

_The first symbol's a square_ she thought, describing what she saw in her mind, _with a neat little circle in the middle of it_.

_The next's a..bottom-heavy cross..with a flick at the end of the vertical line..It's joined to the first symbol by the left-most side of the horizontal line..Maybe they make up a word together.._

_The third's another square, but this one's got two flicks beneath it.._

_The next is made up of three little flicks..They form a loose triangle, one representing each point of the shape.._

As she concentrated, Thane, his curiosity piqued by her silence, stilled his packing and leant around her shoulder to see what had caught her eye. Taking a glance at the text, he shook his head fondly at how apt her selection was.

"Siha.." he prompted gently, breaking her from her enraptured reverie.

"Hm?" She looked around at him quickly. "Sorry, did you need this one?"

"No no" he said, pulling his chair a hint closer and moving to settle just to the side of and behind her left shoulder. "I was simply curious of what you were reading and find the topic..fitting. I thought perhaps I would read the passage with you, if you don't mind."

"Of _course_!" she enthused, beaming at his offer and gesturing towards the page she was on. "I just sort of..picked. I haven't got a clue what I'm looking at, but it's awful pretty."

"It is" he agreed, resting his left arm beside hers, his fingers cupping hers where they held the book open before moving over the page, pointing to the title as he read it out. "A Prayer to Arashu."

"This is Arashu's book?" she asked, glancing around at him again and knowing now why he thought her selection fitting. At his nod, she chuckled, "Don't tell me this piece is about Siha's. I swear.."

"This one is not, no" Thane smiled, "but there are others in here that are. The Mother-Goddess's angels have no small place in our lore, and..in fact.." He stopped himself, an idea coming to him. Carefully, he eased his mate's fingers from the pages and turned through a small number, opening out a new section of the book for her to see.

"Here" he said, pointing to the single large symbol that decorated..and decorated was the word..the left-hand page of a two page spread; the symbol on the left, and what appeared to be another prayer on the right. It was an involved thing, that symbol - a circle housing a second smaller circle, both of which were struck through by a single line that was thicker at the top end than at the bottom and ran from north to south - and was back-dropped by what looked to be lovingly inked curls of colour.

As was often the case when she came upon something new and Drellish, Ami found herself enthralled on sight.

"Is that..?"

"Siha" he said, nodding when she looked back at him, thinking he was addressing her, not describing the character. He gave the page a look, then met her eyes again.

Understanding brought a flush to her cheeks.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, chortling softly at the slight mix-up as she gave the page her full attention. A hand's-worth of curious fingers reached for it, but she pulled herself up, curling them before they could land. Much as his assent to her going through his book-of-lovely-inkings was implicit, she couldn't not ask.

"May I?"

His answering "Of course" was warm and indulgent, and she smiled as she touched the very tips of her fingers lightly against the page that so intrigued her. With reverent care born of her knowledge of and respect for quite what this symbol meant to her beau, she traced each element, trying somehow to reconcile its sight with the sound of the word 'Siha'. As can happen when one finally puts a face to a name however, she was a little wrong-footed by what she saw.

This..this _shape_..was that which expressed the concept of 'Siha'.

This was his word for her.

For _Irikah_.

It carried all of the meaning, and all of the connotations that followed every time he said it. It was his love-name for each of them..this little symbol. This simple, little, delicate looking thing. Two circles, and a tapering line running north to south.

"..Siha.." she murmured, tracing the symbol again, a frown of concentration wrinkling her brow. Glancing across to the right-hand page then, she looked through the neatly rendered lines of characters and reached to tap the only one among the bunch she could recognise.

"This one too right?" she asked, glancing back at Thane, wanting to be sure. "Siha?"

"That's right" he confirmed. "Well done."

Beaming, Ami preened a little. "See, I'm learning" she joked, looking back at the page as her mate's chuckle rumbled against her side. Her curiosity boundless, she picked out each repetition of the word 'Siha' in the prayer, touching each and wondering what words came before and after it.

What the prayer actually said.

What it would sound like read in Drellish.

When that last thought came, she stopped physically, her fingers freezing over the page. Two memories came to her in quick succession - the first, her beau's desire to read with her, and the second, Kolyat and Scalia speaking without their translators being active in the Docking Bay. The latter of these happenings had left her massively curious about what Thane himself would sound like without technology's buffer between them, and the former presented an opportunity for her to find out. He was obviously in the mood for sharing, given his earlier request to read with her, and heck, it's not like she wouldn't give the courtesy of a sampling of his 'proper' voice _back_. She had plenty to say to him, regardless of whether he could understand her or not.

Drawing in a breath, she made ready to pop the proverbial question.

"Thane?" she began, rifling gently at the pages beneath her fingers at her mate's curious, 'Hm?'

"You said before that you fancied reading the Prayer to Arashu with me, right?"

"I would" he confirmed, watching her flip carefully back through the book until she found the page and verse in question. She moved around a little to better face him then, giving him a smile that verged on being coy as she said,

"I'd love to hear you read it..but do you think that you could do it au natural for me?"

He gave a soft chuff at her phrase, raising a brow. "_Au natural_, Siha?"

"Without your translator I meant" she clarified sheepishly. "I realised just a little bit ago that I've never really.._heard you_. Would that be ok?"

At her request, Thane felt a prickle of excitement go through him. Her observation was true of them both. For all she had never heard him speak without the interference of what they colloquially called a UT - universal translator - he had been equally deprived of the chance to hear her, and had wanted to for an appreciable period - particularly since he had been in the hospital with enough time on his hands to really make a proper go of dwelling on it.

On what she might sound like based on what he knew about her origins.

He'd spent many an evening sat up in his bed, his Omni-tool open on his lap and his translator inactive, watching vids of Humans from his love's native Australia; picking out the lilts and tones in their voices and trying, though he had no grasp of the language they spoke, to follow what was going on regardless. His success was limited to the nth degree, but the experience had been fascinating and had given him much food for thought regarding what his mate's true voice, not the altered and synthesised version of it he knew, might sound like.

Might it be soft? With a gentle smattering of the accent he'd experienced on the vids?

Perhaps it was emotive; her changing moods reflected in it as they were on her face.

Or perhaps it was firm and commanding; made so by her life in the field.

He couldn't know, and wanted to..just as she wanted to know of his..but there was something distinct holding him back from leaping for this opportunity. It was a principle..perhaps, on reflection, a silly, selfish one..but one nonetheless and he set his mind on explaining it to her. First though, he would need to answer her question.

"It..would, love..and I yearn to hear you as well.." he began, noting how her face lit up and feeling a whisper of discontent at having, with his next words, to refuse her, "but not today. Not now."

Shepard frowned with both disappointment and curiosity. "Why's that?"

"I would..give this the time it deserves" he explained, taking her right hand in his left as he spoke. "It is no small thing, to share a part of oneself with another, and while I know our 'true' voices are hardly the most private things we have shared together, I would have that sharing be more..weighty..more personal..than it would be were I to simply read a prayer to you."

"I like the sound of that.." she smiled, squeezing his fingers as he did hers.

"Indeed.." he mused, murmuring then, "and..more than that..I do not want the first words you hear me say to be anything but my most personal truth."

Although she wanted to press him..to ask why he couldn't do that now..she didn't. He had made his intentions clear, and she respected that choice too much to drag him over conversational hot coals about it. There was a more pertinent question in her mind at present regardless. One which was asked in direct response to his talk of truths.

"And what's that?"

His reply was unspoken, but she felt it as clear as day. The return, after he tipped his head towards her slightly and took a breath, of that bone-deep hum-buzz in his chest; the very edge of it audible while the rest wisped off beyond her range. Her smile widening helplessly, she melted against his body as he gathered her in, an 'I love you' just as vehement as that which he was conveying in the Drellish way spoken by her as they settled together. Moments later, Arashu's book was gathered up by four hands, and Thane began to read the verse on the page open before them. His voice echoed strangely again, as it had the last time he spoke while 'speaking', but to Ami it was the sound of home.

A Goddamn miracle, and the sound of home.

..

"Hear my prayer Arashu, mother Goddess of protection and light.

Grant that my family be protected.

For they are threatened by forces I cannot repel alone.

Lend me your strength, Arashu.

Protect them."

..

* * *

><p>And now!<p>

_**Coming in the next chapter**_

Shepard and Thane leave the hospital.

A suspicious package causes a moment of hilarity.

And Senior ruins Junior's afternoon.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: Greetings all and welcome to chapter 9. Apologies again for the time between updates. My jobs are just doing murders to my writing time.

Anyways!

Here it be!

Hope you enjoy.

As always, reviews, thoughts, ideas and conjecture make writers happy and more prolific!

Yours faithfully,

_L.G_

* * *

><p><span>Going Home<span>

_**The consequences of kissing Drell, a suspicious package, and a call from Senior make the rest of Shepard's afternoon..interesting..**_

In a darkened room in a hospital on the Citadel's Presidium, a purely rhetorical question was asked of someone and no one at the same time.

_What can make you feel drunk but isn't alcoholic, feel a twinge high but isn't a narcotic, and make stringing together a coherent train of thought damn well impossible when it's at its most potent_?

..

..

Sitting with her brow against her mate's table as he completed the last of his packing beside her, his eyes unaffected by the dim thanks to the Drellish proclivity for excellent low light vision, Shepard squeezed her eyes shut and fought the urge to titter.

_Need a clue_? she asked herself gleefully, entirely ok with the fact that she was conducting a conversation inside the walls of her own mind.

_It's freely available to me_ _but no one else_.

..

..

Silence.

_No_? she thought. _Need another_? _Ok_.

_It wasn't something I ate, but my mouth had something to do with it._

..

More silence, this time of the knowing kind.

She smirked. _Getting the picture_?

Unable to help herself, she snickered quietly and shifted, rubbing her forehead against the table's cool top.

In hindsight, she should have known better.

She'd been pushing it since she arrived..kissing Thane like she had..as many times as she had..as deeply as she had..for as long as she had. Ravenous for the taste of him as she'd been..for the caress of his tongue against hers and the simple tactile pleasure of being intimate with him..she'd known but hadn't acknowledged the risks.

Even as he'd read to her, those beautiful, flowing lines of prayer and devotion from Arashu's red book in that beautiful, flowing, resonant voice of his, she hadn't stopped herself. Never interrupting of course..never ever that..but when a line was finished..or a particularly poignant moment approached..or better, when he caught her eye and recited from memory a passage that he was using, in that moment, to compliment or describe his feelings for her..yes..she'd touched his jaw..drawn him close..and kissed him with all of the affection bubbling inside her soul.

It had become a little game almost, seeing how long they could devote their attention to the verses they looked through before another kiss was needed. Back and forth they'd gone..getting through a whole verse at first..then through half a verse..then two lines..and then the book was reverently set aside and their devotions turned fully from the Goddess's texts to one another.

Such had been their preoccupation until about ten minutes ago.

Until a break and the tabletop were needed over and above further kisses.

From somewhere close to where memory is, the last remnants of what had been a pronounced case of the woozies belched up the phrase, _Oral contact can cause mild hallucinations_ in a terribly familiar, honestly helpful Salarian tone. She frowned, inching up slightly to scrub at her eyes before brow met table again with an audible ***thunk***.

It's not something one can become immune against - the kick that Drellish saliva has to it - but like any slightly trippy substance one can get used to it to a point if it's encountered often enough, and she'd certainly had the chance to do _that_ during Thane's first tour aboard the Normandy. By the time they'd been forced apart, her experience of the so called negative side effects of prolonged 'oral contact' was down to a minimum - the occasional bout of mild wooziness being the worst case scenario.

Now though, it'd been something like seven..maybe closer to eight months since she last kissed him. Last really.._really_..kissed him.

And _fuck_ did it show.

By the grace of some God or other she wasn't _actually_ hallucinating. She wasn't _that_ far gone. Drawing on her somewhat extensive experience of Drell-induced-head-trips, she perceived that she was coming down from about stage..two..out of a possible six - one being nothing but a little dizziness and six the trip equivalent of a force nine gale. Stage two left her pupils over-dilated and her head off-kilter enough to need a break from sharing her beau's more intimate companies, but she was closer to the dizzy end of the spectrum than the liable to start nattering to the nearest set of curtains end, and was otherwise more or less serviceable.

Everything would be back to normal in a couple of minutes.

..

..

_Honest_

A minute into that needed couple, as the tail-end of her bout of wooziness began to settle and a familiar dryness, the precursor to yet another side effect of kissing her mate for extended periods after a seven month drought, made itself at home in her mouth, an equally familiar yet much more welcome presence appeared at her side.

"Siha?" Thane murmured, touching a gentle hand to her shoulder and coaxing her into sitting up.

"M'here, yeah.." she replied as she straightened, her eyes opening only because he'd flicked off the lights and drawn the blinds hanging at his window when her symptoms came on. As she looked around at him, seeing little more than his outline in the dimness, he presented a newly opened half-litre bottle of water to her. He'd bought it with his lunch, and knew that, if the course of her mild Drell-induced affliction was going to hold true to past experience..

..wooziness coming first - anything from mild dizziness to complete disorientation..then aversion to light, along with the occasional visual hallucination..and finally, along with the former three, absolutely _ravening_ thirst..

..she'd need it momentarily.

..

It took a few seconds, but soon her hand reached.

The bottle was pressed into her fingers with practiced ease as she croaked a plaintive, '_Parched_!'

And she drank deeply, managing a 'Thank you' somewhere between her first three swigs.

Frowning with disquiet, Thane retook the seat beside her and touched his hands to her knee, watching her attentively. "I would apologise.." he began, honest regret for her condition in his voice, "but.."

"Don't" she cut in, panting between gulps and smiling after her next mouthful. "There's no need. I'm fine. Just _thirsty_."

He gave a slight nod, her smile reflected in his eyes. "The cause is too treasured a thing to express contrition over, is it not?"

"That" she replied, nodding in agreement and canting her head towards him, "and it's part of you. I won't let you be sorry about that. And besides.." Quirking her brows and giving a purposefully overt and flirtatious grin, she concluded, "The side effects get better with practice..so we'll just have to practice, won't we.."

Thane chuffed mirthfully. "Indeed.." he said, the affection in his voice implying that a great deal more about the situation than the kisses they had and would again share was treasured. Shepard 'hmmm'd agreeably in response, taking another swig from the bottle before setting her mind to tightening her proverbial bootlaces and getting on with the day. With their departure imminent, she was all out of time for spending on being gleefully woozied by her beau's kisses.

There was work to do.

Puffing out a determined breath, she steeled herself, sat the bottle on the table, and shifted around in her seat so that she could face him. She still saw little more than an outline, but it was a more defined one now that he was sitting so close to her. "Setting aside my..ahhh.._issues_ for a minute" she said conversationally, gesturing to her face to indicate both her eyes and her slowly dimming yet still present thirst, "are we ready to move out?"

He hesitated. "I am packed, yes, but there is no rush.."

"Have to hustle, remember?" she put in, arching her brows. "The doc-"

"Can wait until you are well enough to make the journey." There was a note of finality in his voice that was unmistakeable, and that same note coloured her reply. She changed her argument on a credit, erring towards the truth of things instead of invoking Chakwas.

"You're right, but this isn't about her." She reached for him then, her questing fingers finding his hands easily. He took them as she took his, squeezing gently to emphasise her point. "I _need_ to get you out of here" she said, looking about as furtive as a woman with over-dilated pupils rightly could. "I want you home, and since you're ready I'm done waiting."

A muted rumble of dissent greeted her insistence, and she felt Thane shift closer to her; felt his breath on her cheeks and his hands move from hers to cup carefully above her eyes, seemingly shading them from light that wasn't there.

"Close them" he said.

She did, frowning curiously at the request.

"What's the game?"

"Lights" he said, addressing the room's VI, "raise fifty percent."

Her breath caught as the newly raised ambient light trickled through her eyelids. Thane's answering chuff had a vague 'I told you so' air to it, but he didn't comment on her reaction directly. Instead he said, "Try and open them now, Siha. I will not move my hands."

It was all she could do not to whine pitifully."Are you kidding?"

"Not in the least."

Grumbling, she did as she was told and regretted it instantly. Even with the help of his hands, the light was _piercing_. She could see, sure, but her eyes would begin streaming if she kept using them for too long. With a groan-come-sigh, she forced them closed.

"Fine" she griped, thoroughly peeved at her body for betraying her when she needed it. Hunching over slightly, she retreated behind her hands, rubbing her palms over her eyes and screwing her face up with discomfort. "Point made."

Thane, moved by her obvious dejection, issued a sharp command to the VI - "Lights, off" - touched his hands to her knees again, and put thought into remedying her problem. Keeping the lights in the room off was out. Much as it might assist her in the short term, he knew from experience that this particular part of her body's reaction to him could last for up to three quarters of an hour, and he was sure that even the diligent and patient Karin Chakwas would begin getting irritated if they kept her waiting for that long.

They'd already spent half an hour dallying over getting him packed.

Added to that, keeping the lights off here would make those in the corridor seem all the brighter, and he needed his Siha functional, not blinded, if she was to accompany him to the ship with as much decorum as possible. It wouldn't do for the public at large to see her led stumblingly along a hospital corridor by a Drellish gentleman.

People would talk.

Considering their predicament, he glanced about the room in search of inspiration, only to have it come from she whom he was seeking to assist. She sat up a little, knuckling at her eyes as she huffed, "Haven't we got a shade or something?"

This prod was all he needed.

The word 'shade' reminded him of a human idiom he had learnt from her long back - 'shades'; sunglasses.

_Those_ he had a pair of.

They would work like a charm.

"We _have_ in fact" he said, easing away from her and making for the smallest of his three bags. The red pair of glasses he'd procured during their first tour was found quickly and brought over, his now curiously watchful mate focussing on them when he settled beside her and presented them. Though she could only make out their basic shape in the dim, her face lit with recognition.

"I know these!" she enthused, taking them carefully and giving them a once-over.

"As you should" he grinned, "You helped pick them out." Sobering then, he said, "I believe they may help to keep the light at manageable levels, but we will need to field-test them to be positive." He arched his brows in question, nodding towards the VI's panel on the wall by the door. "Shall we?"

She had the glasses on before he finished speaking. "Lights" she said, "raise one hundred percent."

Sterile white light bathed the room, and both she and Thane clamped their eyes closed against it. She cursed, he gave a low hiss-come-rumble of obvious discomfort, and then silence fell until a distinctly sheepish voice spoke up.

"Sorry" she managed, cracking her eyes open, both hands set to holding the glasses as firmly against her face as possible.

"A little warning next time, perhaps, hm?" he rejoined without a hint of real antagonism in his tone. She had given more than enough warning, in all honesty, for him to guard himself against the light's sudden intrusion. He'd simply been so caught up in engaging her that it filtered through his distraction too late for a timely response.

"Sorry" she repeated, giving him a grin as, once again, their eyes met. She was still squinting slightly behind the glasses. "On the plus side, they're working. I can see just fine."

"Oh?" he said, cocking his head curiously to the right. "I can tell by your brow that you're frowning, love. You look pained."

She scoffed softly. "Maybe a little, but that was my fault. Blinding flash of light and all. Besides..look.." Reaching out to him in an attempt to prove just how well she could see, she found the pentagonal splotch of deep green upon his brow and gently, accurately, traced its edges. "See?" She moved on to the speckles dotted about it, then traced the first of the prominent ridges on the crown of his head. "No problems."

Thane tilted his head up as her fingers retreated, rumbling pleasurably as their pads stroking past his right frill for his effort in meeting them. "I am convinced" he proclaimed, nodding as her face lit up.

"We can get going then?" she asked hopefully, quite literally on the edge of her seat with anticipation for the all clear.

"In a moment, perhaps."

"Perhaps?" she parroted, visibly deflating. "I can see fine, Thane! This room has lights that put Sol to shame and I can see _fine_." A playfully suspicious cast took her expression and her tone then, a memory coming to her. "Is this you trying to draw out our private time or something? Not that I _mind_, it's just-"

"The doctor is waiting" he said. "Yes, I know. And no, my motives are not based upon my want to remain in your private company for as long as possible. The want is as keen as ever, naturally.." he slid his hands a measured distance along her thighs as he spoke, squeezing gently before stroking them back down towards her knees, "..but it does not impel me now."

"It's as keen for me too" she assured him, smiling at his touch and reaching again to trace the curving edge of his right frill. He returned her smile as she asked, "So what's with the perhaps? Got something left to do here, or...?"

"I have" he said. "As do you."

"Oh?"

His answer was spoken as though he was pointing out the obvious. "We cannot leave if you're so disorientated that keeping your feet is tasking for you, can we?"

She blinked, then understood.

"_Right_" she said, eyes closing behind her glasses. Of course they couldn't leave yet. There were tests to perform; three in total that they had perfected over their time together as a way of gauging how well she was recovering from..well.._him_.

She stood, Thane standing with her. "You want me to.." she began, gesturing to the glasses. She knew what was coming, and knew as well that he was watching her closely as she walked to the centre of the room. "I do" he replied, noting the seeming steadiness of her gait with cautious approval, "but not before we dim the lights. I won't have you blinded. Lights.." he addressed the VI, "lower to ten percent" and then returned his attention to his Siha as the light dimmed. "Let us see if this level pains you."

Here was test the first: seeing if she could handle **ANY** light with naked eyes.

"Yessir" she quipped, closing her eyes tightly as she removed the glasses and handed them back to him. She blinked quickly moments later, testing herself before committing and fully opening her eyes. The room was filled with a soft glow, revealing to her the concerned look on her mate's face when she looked around at him. She winced..and squinted..but didn't need to close her eyes again.

She was beginning to adjust.

"There" she said as he drew near, pocketing the glasses and looking closely at her eyes; inspecting them as he had every time she had needed to go through this as a result of their indulging their desire for each other a little too vigorously. Her irises were little more than slim rings of blue but, after a quick mental comparison with long-past repetitions of this examination, Thane was sure that she had been worse off before. Added to that, he could tell that she was alert and focused on him.

Things were nowhere near as bad as they could have been.

"Very good.." he mused, stepping back a pace then and, in preparation for the next test, taking her chin in his left hand to keep her head still. "If you would, love.." he prompted, raising his right forefinger and waiting as ever for her acquiescing nod before moving his hand slowly to the left, then back to the right, watching her eyes as they followed it.

This was the second test: whether she could focus properly on a moving object.

"I got this.." she murmured, smiling with the very corners of her lips.

"You do" he agreed, stilling his hand then and moving it slowly towards the tip of her nose. This part..strictly speaking..didn't have any real diagnostic benefit. It was a bit of fun really..a nod to the fact that, unlike humans and because of their inner eyelids, Drell cannot cross their eyes..but they had done it since the need to test her alertness began and weren't about to stop now. It gave them the perfect excuse to reclaim a little of the intimacy her moment of wooziness had stolen from them, after all.

When a scaled fingertip stroked the tip of her nose, Shepard blinked, refocusing her just crossed eyes on her mate's face. At the affection shown upon it clearly, she smiled. "You really can't do that, can you.." she said, reaching up and touching the tip of his nose as his hands dropped away to rest upon her shoulders.

"I cannot" he confirmed, knowing that she knew this and was simply being coy. With a soft hum of appreciation for her touch, he dipped his head slightly and turned it to the left, catching her hand in his to halt its retreat and kissing the skin on the inside of her wrist. "I can however ensure that you are able, before we leave, to make it back to the Normandy with me without disgracing yourself.." He paused for effect, watching the flush that his kiss had lent to her cheeks begin to dim as she smirked at him. "Is that an adequate trade-off?"

"Oh yes" she grinned, leaning to appreciate his throat a moment and asking, "We on the last test now?"

"We are" he confirmed, tipping his chin up a hint for her before releasing her hand and stepping back so he could properly observe her.

"So I'll just.."

"Please" he nodded, grinning then as he added in a dulcet purr, "Ten-hut."

Fourteen years in the military, and she'd never snapped to for inspection as eagerly as she did when he said that word in that tone of voice.

Here was the last test: that of spatial and bodily co-ordination. It had been her idea to base it on simple drill postures and manoeuvres. She knew them so well that they came to her as second nature, and required not even a half-second's thought to perform..unless she was suffering still from the effects of his kisses. Then..what with the cursing and the tripping and the toppling over..things got messy.

Now though, as she stood stock still, her feet together, back and shoulders rigid, hands unmoving, eyes front, looking past him and never in his eyes, there was nothing of mess. Nothing of waste. Here was a soldier awaiting an order, not a woman who, five minutes ago, was blinded by ambient light.

Slowly, as he always did at this point in the proceedings, Thane walked in a loose circle around his mate. Officially he was observing her posture, looking for wavers or signs of inattention. Unofficially..he was admiring her just as openly as he ever did when sharing her private company; minding the slope of her lower back, the shape of her rear and the flare of her hips just as avidly as he did her poise.

It took a herculean effort not to touch her as he made his evaluations, but he did not.

The test was not complete.

Standing before her again and knowing better than to try and catch her eye, he appraised her for a moment longer and then gave the order she looked to be waiting for. "Right turn."

From her there was not a hesitation, not a smile, not a flinch of levity shown as she executed the command and turned, without taking a step, ninety degrees to the right. Again she stood, the movement finished, in perfect stillness but for her breathing, unfazed by the change of direction. Steady on her feet.

Pleased by the display, Thane issued a second, more challenging command. "About turn." Were she woozy enough to have problems, it would show now more than ever. Properly completing this manoeuvre without tripping over one's feet requires, if not perfect bodily control, a degree of it which would be unreachable for her if she was suffering.

Again though, she moved in place, turning on her heel and snapping to at the completion of the movement. There was not a single loss of balance. Not a whisper of slacking form or disorientation. Satisfied, Thane nodded to himself and issued a final command, "Right turn", to bring her back around to her original position, her gaze off over his shoulder, body straight and aligned.

He was convinced, if cautious still.

He would watch her closely, but she was fit enough to leave for the Normandy.

Knowing she wouldn't meet his eyes until she knew the test was over, Thane warmed his expression and stepped close to her, touching his hands to her arms and speaking her love-name.."Siha.." by way of calling time. She came alive against him as soon as the first syllable left his lips, grinning up at him as she asked, "Did I win?" with jovial ease.

He chuckled, drawing her against his body and revelling in the feeling of her hands easing beneath the casually un-tucked edge of his shirt and the high waist of his trousers to stroke the small of his back. "I believe_ I_ may have.." he mused, touching their brows together gently instead of leaning to share with her the kiss he so wanted to. "As long as you are sure that you feel well enough, we may leave as soon as you're ready" he said. "I am as eager as you to be elsewhere."

"I'll bet.." she replied, leaning up a little and pressing into him a hint more firmly. "And I am sure. Trust me, I've drilled with a hangover and two hours sleep. I'll survive the halls and streets between here and the ship with sore eyes, a dry mouth and very slight dizziness."

As he rumbled his agreement, she pulled back slightly and nosed her way beneath his jaw, sampling the soft warmth of his pleats against her cheek before giving that closest to her lips a gentle kiss and breathing her most personal truth, 'I love you', to him. Although it was not openly acknowledged as such, they both knew what this moment was, innocuous as it may have seemed to the objective observer. With all else in place and their departure looming, this would be the last truly private time they could spend together before they were behind locked doors aboard the Normandy, and neither, despite their want to leave, wanted it to end.

No matter how practiced they were at it or how long they would spend together privately, the moments just before they once again had to put distance between themselves never got easier.

Her beau returned the gesture in kind, tightening his embrace about her and suckling a delicate kiss upon her throat as he replied, "And I love you", and they both took a moment to simply breathe in the other before they stepped back, public masks replacing the openness and affection that had coloured their expressions seconds prior. As if to cement the change, Shepard greeted him.

"Krios" she said, nodding crisply.

Thane mimicked the nod. "Commander."

Needing to keep somewhat clear of him now to make the unwelcome but necessary professional distance easier to palate, Shepard turned to the three bags he had set out neatly nearby. She picked up the middle sized one - a canvassy duffel bag that was once hers - before he could play the chivalry card and take them all himself, and shucked it up onto her back as Thane sat the smallest atop the largest - those being respectively his book bag and a roomy wheeled suitcase - and turned back to her once they were properly balanced. Without a word, he fished the sunglasses she would need for the journey from his pocket and handed them to her, watching as she slipped them on and gathered up what was left of her half-litre of water.

"Lights" she said after nabbing a quick sip, "raise to one hundred percent."

There was no cursing this time as the light came. Wincing, yes, but no cursing.

As her vision settled, she gave a mock grimace, then shared a knowing smile with her mate.

It was time to go.

* * *

><p>Thane made it to the Patients' Lounge a clear fifteen seconds before Shepard, her disinclination for appearing publicly to be anything more to him than his commanding officer, added to her need to keep an eye on his six in case of trouble, keeping her at his back.<p>

Hospital setting or not, old habits..don't die.

Because of her caution, she missed the formative moments of the glowing welcome he received from Doctor Chakwas and a Salarian gentleman she didn't recognise, but was welcomed easily into their little group when they saw her; the good doctor quirking her brows and giving the glasses she wore and bottle she carried a pointed look.

"Feeling well, Commander?" she asked as Shepard set down the bag she'd been carrying, innocence clothing shrewd words. After a tour in which 'psoriasis' and other Drell-related issues cropped up often, Karin knew damn well what tinted shades and sudden dehydration meant.

Drellish kisses.

Lots of Drellish kisses.

Shepard fenced at the jibe, though managed a grin. "Not a word" she warned, feigning affront as the doctor chuckled and asking, "Did Williams make a break for it when I wasn't looking?" to try and divert attention from her newly acquired facial adornment and keen thirst.

"She did" Karin replied, letting her off the hook and nodding, after speaking a cordial, preparatory, "Commander", to the unfamiliar gentleman standing to her immediate right. Brown skinned, with a creamy throat and wise, yellowish-copper eyes, he beamed at Shepard when she looked at him. "This is Doctor Ira Pyral."

Although her expression remained as open and friendly as it could when half hidden behind her shades, recognition sent Shepard's heart into her throat. "Thane's primary physician.." she recounted from memory, swallowing thickly as the enormity of quite _who_ this happily nodding man _was_ sent her cold.

He was the one who, but for Mordin, was chiefly responsible for managing her mate's health. He who, again, but for Mordin and along with seven colleagues, _saved_ his _life_ and therefore gave her back the person who meant everything to her when she'd thought him lost.

It was this very man.

Not someone distant or removed from her.

This.

Very.

Man.

For a moment, she was floored.

Floored and damn glad she was wearing tinted glasses. She couldn't risk him becoming aware of quite how invested she was in Thane's recovery, their privacy coming a close second behind him in her list of things she wanted most to protect, and seeing her eyes in that moment..shocked and wide and so damn _touched_..would certainly have given her away.

Gathering herself, she mustered a respectful, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor", before taking his offered hand and shaking it firmly; the words she next spoke carrying a degree of understatement so great that it was frankly incalculable. "It'll never be enough to simply say this, but thank you. Your work has saved the life of one of my dearest friends, and for that I'll be indebted to you until long after my time has passed."

"A pleasure, Commander" the gentlemanly Salarian said. "A pleasure. And gratitude? Yes, well, I understand that. Of course. But it's unnecessary. I did my job. We..my colleagues and I..did our jobs, nothing more."

"I hope you'll pardon my saying" Shepard put in, allowing herself this single moment of complete honesty in what was otherwise an exercise in comprehensive misdirection, "but there's doing a job, and then there's performing a miracle."

Pyral waved her words off. "Miracle? No. _Science_, Commander. _Medicine_. _Initiative_. Not a miracle." He looked around quickly, wetting his lips and stepping a hint closer before adding, "I know Professor Solus well. Was a colleague of his earlier in my career. Always knew he was forward-thinking..ambitious..but this.." He drew in a breath, narrowing his eyes and nodding again as he exhaled.

Shepard smiled, the expression measured but kind. "What you've done for Thane certainly is that" she said, glancing at him and receiving a smile that was as measured as that which she'd just given Pyral. A soft intake of breath from the doctor and a light touch upon her arm turned her attention back to him. His expression was a mixture of excitement and consideration, and she could see a mental debate waging behind his eyes. After a moment's pause he came to a conclusion, catching her gaze as he spoke.

"Can tell you this" he said. "It's not just for Thane, Commander, but for the Drell as a _whole_."

Piqued by his wording, his audience of three would have probed him for more details on that particular phrase, Mordin's mentions of 'outside applications' coming back to them when it was said, but they never got the chance. A call from the reception desk.. "Commander Shepard! Over here please!"..cut them off.

Shepard, on high alert as she was being that the most precious person in her life was well within collateral damage range if someone decided to take a shot at her, tensed and snapped her attention towards the speaker. Staring back at her was an Asari who looked, thanks to the intensity in her expression, like she wished she hadn't called out to her at all. The Commander paused markedly, assessing the situation in the space of a breath and a half..

_..She's unlikely to be a Cerberus plant_. _Asari are too proud a race to ally themselves with the likes of the Illusive Man_. _She could be a Batarian sympathiser_, _but that seems __far-fetched_. _I don't know her face_, _but that only means I've missed her shift in my previous visits, not that she's been shoehorned in in the last few days to off me_..

..before turning to Thane and raising a questioning brow. If the Asari was safe, he'd know. He was better at watching his surroundings than she was, and it was her role and duty as the leader of a squad to be as proficient at that as it was humanly possible to be. Understanding her predicament, her mate gave a slight nod, identifying the woman as both known to him and harmless. She returned it, then excused herself from the group and made her way across the room.

Paranoid as she knew her thinking was, if she was walking into some kind of trap, which she could have been despite her beau's knowledge of the Asari, at least she was walking away from him as she did it.

At least he'd be safe.

Stopping at the desk, Thane's gaze heavy and welcome on her back, she settled her unease, sat her water bottle on the counter top, and did her best at being sociable. "Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you Commander" the Asari said, maintaining a professional air despite the woman's terseness. "I have a package here for you."

"What is it?"

"I'm not entirely sure ma'm" she replied, leaning down and producing the package from behind the desk. She missed how Shepard's shoulders tensed with readiness and suspicion by a hairs breadth. "It came up from the hospital's stores about an hour ago. The transfer authorisation lists it as 'Medicinal' only, and it was signed off on by one Mordin Solus.." Looking at the Commander curiously, she pushed the box across to her. "Do you know a Mordin Solus?"

"Do I know a.." She huffed, stopping herself from repeating the entire question in disbelief. "I do, yes..hold on now.." Hesitant despite the familiar name, she activated her Omni-tool and scanned the package, seeking out possible toxins..bombs..and other such devices that may have been snuck inside by the ever-present paranoia-born malefactor she was convinced was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When the scan came up clean, she smiled at the attendant, thanked her for the delivery, and shuffled further along the desk with both box and water bottle so other people could be seen to while she dealt with it. It was about a foot square, metal, white and apparently, going on the little green light flashing on the interface in its rightmost corner, sealed against contaminants.

Shepard appraised it approvingly. _Proper professional stuff, this_..

Unsure how else to open it, she gave the interface a poke. It lit up cheerfully at the contact and requested a thumbprint for identity verification. This drew two responses from the Commander.

The first, naturally, was suspicion. It could be seeking a thumbprint because her imagined malefactor, who she would be assuming sent the thing until she was proven wrong, wanted to make sure it was her who got the brunt of whatever harmful agent might be in the package.

And the second was a mild case of recognition. She knew Mordin, who had apparently authorised the transfer of this pretty medical-grade box into her possession, was intensely private when it came to anything he was working on, and would therefore take precautions just like this one to ensure that whatever it was he was sending along fell only into her hands.

Weighing up the pros and cons of waiting to get the package back to the Normandy so she could open it behind a blast shield, she came out in favour of doing what it said and providing her thumbprint then and there. She'd scanned the thing after all, and if it was a trap, at least it would take her out in full public view while Thane was well out of the way. Revenge could be plotted much more easily in such circumstances than if it went off on the Normandy and crippled the ship.

Resolved, she took a breath and pressed her right thumb onto the panel. A bleep and a hiss later, the box opened..

..

..and she wasn't struck down by a spray of Sarin gas or some other equally horrific agent. She was greeted by a soft waft of cool air and a note written in Basic in a hand she recognised. Picking it out, she read:

'Commander.

Know that Thane is leaving with you. Knew he would be discharged, and that you would be there when he was. Know _you_, Shepard.

Left package during last visit with instructions that it be released to you when Thane's discharge finalised. Will either be passed to you directly, or be forwarded to Normandy if administrators at hospital miss you. Personally hope for hand-to-hand transfer as opposed to delivery. Less chance of damage that way.

Enclosed is topical ointment for treatment of psoriasis...'

Pausing, she scrabbled for a quick sip of water and looked beyond the note into the box. The round lids of six _very_ familiar pots stared right back at her. Poking around them, the faint touch of the box's internal cooling system catching her fingers as she went, she shook her head in disbelief, spluttering, "Oh I'm gonna..that cheeky son of a.." before giving a choked hack of laughter and reading on.

'...Hope it helps. Will need it, I think. Will be in touch soon. Have news for you. Updates.

Must dash.

- M'

Still snickering as she finished the note, she slipped it back where it came from and, earning an odd look from the Asari attendant for her seemingly random laughing fit, shut the box quickly, gathered her bottle, and hustled over to her beau and his luggage. Tucking the former beneath his book bag and having another sip from the latter, she answered his curious, 'Commander?' with three little words.

"Mordin. Skin cream."

Thane paused..caught on..and nictated his inner eyelids once in purposefully muted recognition. "Ah" he opined curtly, fighting down a smirk and turning to the now bemused Doctor Pyral. "A gift" he explained, pointedly ignoring Chakwas's greatly restrained laughter and giving his most placid smile to both she and his soon-to-be former primary physician.

"Shall we get going, doctors?" he asked then, looking between them and Shepard hopefully. "If we are to go through my care-plan aboard the ship, it would be to the benefit of all concerned if we left promptly."

None amid the group could argue his logic.

With a final look back, they left the hospital, Thane, Pyral, and Chakwas at the head of the group and the ever watchful (and now baggage-laden) Shepard at the rear. As the second set of glass doors swished closed at her back, she scanned the area, focused on her mate's back as he strode along, and pushed a deep breath out through a smile.

This was it.

They were going home.

And Gods as her witness, if she had her way, they, she and Thane, would never come back.

* * *

><p>Half an hour after leaving the hospital, Shepard found herself alone with her beau's luggage in the Normandy's elevator. He and his doctors had departed for the medical bay a couple of minutes prior, and that left her with at least an hour of free time in which she planned to ready their room for his arrival.<p>

After poking the [Floor 1] button on the elevator's interface, she stood back and waited, the familiar purr of the various mechanics that drove the thing filling the air as floor three, where she'd been wishing Thane luck for his care-plan talk just before entering the lift, gave way to floor two. Then though..between floors two and one, her hoped for destination, the purr became a dull hum and the elevator slowed to a _crawl_. Frowning, she poked the [Floor 1] button again, wondering what the hell had happened to the usual brisk clip at which the elevator travelled. Her answer came in the form of a voice and a flicker of purple light - the holographic orb that represented EDI appearing on the little dais that sat below the lift's interface.

-/Commander/-

"EDI? Are you messing with the lift's controls or something?"

-/I am/- the AI replied, unrepentant.

Shepard bristled, her patience for hold-ups wearing desperately thin after so long a day. "Why?"

-/I have a question/-

Staring at the glowing sphere for a moment, the Commander pushed her beau's glasses further up on her nose and sighed quietly to herself. "What is it?" she asked, seeing no other way out of the situation but to humour her.

-/It concerns Sere Krios's reaction to my..mobile platform../-

Shepard frowned slightly, recalling the situation she was referring to. The Normandy had been almost deserted when they came aboard, all but a skeleton crew having moved on out to the Citadel's numerous attractions as the ship was run through its maintenance cycle. Even Joker had taken leave of his post, leaving EDI's new body to act as greeter for the recently returned foursome.

Although she and Chakwas batted nary an eyelid, used to her as they were, Thane and Pyral had done double takes of surprising force when she rose from her seat and reintroduced herself. She'd lied quite openly to appease the shocked Salarian, assuring him that she was 'merely a platform for the Normandy's state of the art VI', but that didn't stop the moment from being hellish awkward, or dull the shock Thane got at seeing her up, walking, and potentially armed.

Curious of how EDI had perceived the situation, she asked, "Oh? What about it?"

-/He seemed..uncertain/- she said, her tone curious, -/yet he expressed nothing indicating unease with my presence during our prior acquaintance. I don't understand the sudden change. Mr Vakarian handled my transfer well..as did Joker and Doctor T'Soni. Precedent suggests that he should also handle the change well./-

"Well.." she tried, picking her words carefully so that she didn't come off as condescending. It was a difficult balance to strike, particularly since the AI, for all her massive intellect, obviously lacked any kind of social conditioning and had a distinct tendency to take a one size fits all approach to dealing with organics. "Everyone's different, EDI."

-/Clarify/-

Shepard shook her head, huffing out a breath and taking a sip of water to buy herself some time. She'd known what Thane was doing the second she saw the surprise in his face become absolute focus. He was assessing her _mobile platform_ in much the same way he did opponents on the field, seeking out the most effective ways of disabling her physically should she pose a threat. It was nothing personal, and took no regard of their past acquaintance or of memories he might have of her being a productive and cooperative member of the team. It was just his way; a knee-jerk response to a new circumstance that had been trained into him by the Hanar.

Sipping again from the bottle, she looked at EDI and tried to form her knowledge into some kind of answer for her; preferably one that wouldn't paint her mate in a discourteous light. He was the least from discourteous. He was simply a life-trained assassin who, at the moment in question, had had an unwelcome shock and reacted as anyone else in his position would have.

Pragmatically and in line with their training.

"Thane isn't used to you having a physical body" she began. "During the course of the day, with everything that's been going on, it slipped my mind to tell him about you. I've got so used to you, it didn't even cross my mind."

There was a pause as her audience contemplated her offering. -/I see/- she said. -/Perhaps I should have given an audible preamble before introducing myself physically. Would that have been appropriate, Commander?/-

Shepard smiled. EDI's questions had become more regular recently, and concerned everything from appropriate idiom use to full on questions on philosophy. It seemed as if she was trying to puzzle out how to think in ways or take account of things that she hadn't been programmed to, and while the mechanics behind that baffled the Commander, she couldn't help liking the idea.

"I think it would have been, yes" she said, "but the situation didn't really lend itself to separate introductions. You did the right thing."

-/Noted/- She paused, then asked, -/Did I initiate a positive reacquaintance with Sere Krios? Despite his unease?/-

And there it was again, that whisper of her trying to perceive and understand interaction in ways that were outside of her programming. Acquaintance-making certainly wasn't in the handbook. Tech-savvy or not, Shepard knew that much.

"I'd say so" she smiled. "You just gave him a start, that's all. He'll warm to the new you in time, just like Garrus and the rest of the crew have."

That paused her. -/An extranet search of Drellish social mores surrounding surprise does not match Sere Krios's reac-../-

"_Different_, EDI" Shepard repeated, stressing the word. "You can't predict how a person will display an emotion with one hundred percent accuracy by comparing them to xenobiological texts online. It doesn't matter the race. Everyone's shaped by the life they've lived, just as much as they are by the race they're a part of."

Another pause. -/So I should take account of the backgrounds of the organics I encounter when analysing their behaviours and framing appropriate responses?/-

"Yes" she replied simply, not wanting to give the AI any more lines of questioning than absolutely necessary. Much as she didn't mind answering a couple, she had work to do that was leagues more important than illuminating her ship on the finer points of societal etiquette.

Luckily, EDI seemed happy with her answer. -/Very well. Thank you, Commander/- she said, adding then, -/The purchases you made earlier in the day have been moved up to your quarters./- Her tone changed from conversational to chiding as she ribbed, -/I noticed no live animal transfer forms with the documentation the courier delivered. Have you foregone fish-keeping as a hobby?/-

"Oh _ha ha_" Shepard drawled, poking the [Floor 1] button in the hope that her captor would get the message and put her journey back on track. "Do you mind?" she asked. "I've got places to be now."

-/Of course, Commander/- EDI said, the elevator's once dull hum becoming its usual purr as it was released from whatever shackles she had put upon it. With a glib -/Enjoy/- her hologram dissipated, leaving Shepard to stare at its now vacant dais for the remaining half minute or so of her trip.

_Lip from an AI_, she scoffed, smirking faintly, tiredly. _Whatever next_.

* * *

><p>When at last Shepard stepped into her quarters, her water bottle and Mordin's box of 'gifts' tucked securely under her arm and her beau's assorted luggage at her heel, she found, as EDI promised she would, a small assortment of packages with the <em>Bio-wares Interspecies Health Store<em> logo on the side piled up just inside the door. She grinned at the array as she passed, making haste for the small panel just by the stairs leading down into the sleeping area so she could dim the lights to a more appropriate level.

Much as her eyes were quickly returning to their usual sans-Drell state, they were sensitive still and would appreciate lowered lights.

As the semi-dark fell, she pulled off her borrowed glasses, sat them, her bottle, and Mordin's box on her desk, and set Thane's gear down on the floor beside it for a moment so she could give her arms and back a rest. After a quick stretch, she shrugged off her jacket and returned her attention to the boxes that had been delivered while she was out.

Looking at them, she had to resist the urge to rub her hands together gleefully.

Everything was coming together as planned.

Alight with excitement at finally getting underway, she began her mission to move Thane back in by conveying his case and bags down into her living area. She knew, thanks to a helpful tip he'd given her, which contained the bulk of his clothing, so she sat the two she wouldn't be decanting into her closet beside the couch across the way and set about making room in there for the contents of the third.

With her modest wardrobe's doors opened before her, she assessed the view critically.

_Two jackets..no..wait.._

Hurrying over to her discarded leather, she scooped it up and hung it carefully beside its compatriots before getting back to her audit.

_Three jackets..one for formal occasions and two for casual/civilian ones._

_Three sets of clean civvies..four if you count those I'm wearing now. _

_Two pairs of pressed dress trousers._

_Two pressed white dress shirts._

She stooped then, opening the draws that sat beneath the wardrobe's main hanging area, her mental tally continuing.

_Under-things in the left draw._

_Socks in the right._

..

_Right..I can work with that.._

With making room for her beau in mind, she scooped up the contents of draw-the-right and deposited them amid the contents of draw-the-left; a small tidal wave of undergarments escaping from their usual places as she fought to cram them all into half the space they were accustomed to. It took some serious ingenuity (and the requisition of an old shoe box from the wardrobe's deep back) to free up draw-the-right for Thane's use, but after five tense minutes of sorting she was in the clear and the first of his clothes could be made at home.

Checking through each article she picked out of his case to make sure it didn't need a trip below with her next load of laundry, she found, to her wry amusement though at no great surprise, that everything she yet encountered had been freshly laundered before being packed. Snickering openly at the thought of the consternation her notoriously cleanly mate's penchant for keeping his clothing as neat and tidy as he kept himself must have caused the staff at Huerta, Ami placed the smallest items she could find..underwear for the most part, though a particularly light pair of trousers also passed muster..into the draw and slid it closed before moving on with her unpacking.

His coat emerged next, and was lovingly embraced by her before being rehomed upon a hanger right beside her own leather. Looking at them hanging by each other, she entertained the thought, for a brief moment, of having them share a single hanger..having his lay over and around hers..but she dismissed the idea quickly. Sweet as it might have been, she didn't want to either wreck the hanger, or end up damaging either article of clothing.

Her mind settled on that, she moved on, shoving her gear as far over into the left side of the wardrobe as possible so her beau's had enough room to settle in. Four light cotton shirts were hung first in that space, followed by two pairs of trousers, two pairs of what she was sure, going on their sleekness, were workout shorts, three vests - two cotton, one almost Lycra-like in tightness and texture - and finally, sat in the bottom alongside her own meagre lot, three pairs of shoes.

His - two pairs of soft looking loafer-types, much akin to those he had been wearing today, that she assumed were the most comfortable choice for a gentleman who was making a steady return to health in a hospital setting; and one pair of what appeared to be relatively new combat boots.

And hers - other than the combats she was wearing now, one pair of trainers; one pair of dutifully shined dress shoes; and one pair of ungodly heels that she'd next wear after surviving an hour's sunbathing on Haestrom.

Every time she wore them she came off second best.

The damn things were a health risk.

Period.

Refocusing on her task after a moment of pointed glaring at the offending heels, she made sure that there was room enough still within the wardrobe for the inevitable addition of further garments, before turning back to her beau's open case in search of the next item to convey from it to its new home. Looking within though, she frowned. It seemed at first glance that she'd reached the bottom, nothing but blackness meeting her curious gaze, but when she tipped her head slightly she caught sight of a familiar ripple of blueish-purple fabric and knew then that there was something more to be had.

Something a little bit special even.

After wiping her hands on her trousers, unwilling as she was to chance sweating all over that which resided at the bottom of her mate's case, she knelt down and sunk her fingers deep into the folds of their once-shared favourite blanket; that which he had rescued from her quarters before he left, and which had, for the past months, made its home upon his bed in the hospital.

An appreciative murmur escaping her as she curled her fingers through the material, Shepard located the near side of the obviously meticulously folded item and opened it out, thinking to unfurl it and lay it back where it belonged upon their bed. Before she could though, she felt something heavy against her exploring fingers. Cool and pliable, it was the antithesis of the velvety textures it sat amongst, and though she tried she couldn't for the life of her place what it could be by touch alone.

Her curiosity piqued, she dug down through what felt like a foot of fabric, billowing folds of the stuff escaping their confines and spilling over the sides of the case until, with a final fold-back of a particularly encompassing layer, what was once hidden was revealed. There, amid softness and comfort, sat a set of her mate's work attire; the tight, black, single-piece suit of leather that, while highlighting the wonders three decades of training can do to a physique, stood, in her mind at least, for that part of his life for which he had been volunteered before he was old enough to refuse it.

Although she didn't mean to, she frowned as she looked at the thing, observing it sitting quite purposefully within what had once been a sanctuary for she and Thane. Its placement didn't shock her, unwelcome as it was. Her beau likely cared for it, especially since it was integral to his trade, so squirreling it away somewhere that would protect it from bumps in transit was wise. She'd have done the same, and indeed had done in the past when she had to move her dress gear from place to place, but that didn't make seeing it among folds within which they had made everything from the most tender to the most impassioned love any more pleasant. She remembered clearly the evenings that they had spent curled against each other within the very space it had usurped - naked skin to naked scales as they sated their need to simply be near each other. To touch, explore, and experience one another within their deeply textured nest. They had lost countless hours of perfectly good sleeping time within these very folds and now..

She huffed.

Now a splodge of matte leather that had no right being where it was had gone and invaded their place.

There was no two ways about it.

It had to be moved.

Straightening up, she gathered the offending garment from within its blankety covering and turned back to her wardrobe to find it a new home. Despite the fact that she knew it was well armoured in places - the knees and ankles especially, as well as around the hips - it was surprisingly light; its upper panels giving malleably beneath her fingers as she explored them.

Testing the material, she came to a decision. It would need to be folded carefully and sat somewhere flat if it was to remain undamaged. Hanging it up would likely stretch it, and she had no intention of going shopping for another set during the four days of shore leave she'd allotted this morning.

She and Thane had a blanket to make extensive and complete use of after all.

The thought of liberating their once-nest from its prison quickening her, she did her best to imitate the precise folds which had allowed her beau to pack the suit so snugly, found it a spot atop her underwear draws and sat it down carefully, closing the wardrobe and making a final stop by the case to free the swarthy expanse of rippling material. With a little smile and a careful tug she pulled it out and held it up to her face, nuzzling her nose and lips against it and revelling in both the textured softness of the thing, and the faint _male Drell _scent it carried from having enfolded her mate for so long. It was a very delicate thing, Drell being a comparatively quiet race in terms of odours, but it was there nonetheless; strange, hard to place, and _vaguely_ reminiscent of the scent of human skin that had been out in the sun and then washed with Thane's favourite mild soap.

Musky and warm and inviting of her.

After a deep breath was taken in and huffed out, Shepard picked her way over to her bed and unfolded the blanket to its full size. Easily eight feet by eight feet, it dwarfed her as she worked on getting it laid out correctly, its billowing folds becoming quite the challenge to master until, after a little ingenuity and a carefully made fold down the encompassing thing's middle, it floated down across the bed's foot just as she wished it to.

Just as it had before she and Thane had been forced to part ways.

She eyed it for at least a minute, stroking out creases and making sure it sat just so before giving it an approving nod and ambling past her mate's remaining luggage, which was for him to unpack wherever he wished to, so she could deal with the boxes amassed by the room's entrance. They would need sorting out before she could even half consider herself ready to receive him.

Looking between them, Mordin's small box and the three large, she decided to tend to that which presented less of an obstacle first and headed for the former; gathering it up and entering the bathroom to unpack it and set its contents in their rightful place on her shelves. Opening it with another thumb-press upon its glowing interface, she tsk'd, smiled, and shook her head, producing one of the six pots that inhabited it and reading the label out loud.

"Psoriasis treatment for A. Shepard, only. Suitable for.._private_ use. Enjoy, Commander. M"

She bit her lip to try and stop it, but laughed anyway. Slathering a little on her hands, face and forearms now, she swore to herself that next time she saw the Professor, and she would come hell or high water, she'd make a point of thanking him for his foresight, as well as for all of the other things she was indebted to him for.

The pots neatly set out on her shelves - between her clean towel stash and the small mountain of tubs of antiseptic cream she kept around for after missions - she emerged once more into the main body of her room and turned to the boxes she had yet to unpack. They were all large and cumbersome-looking, though when she tested their weight, tipping each up by an edge experimentally, she found two to be surprisingly light for their size. Knowing her orders well, she deduced the contents of the heaviest box without trouble.

It would be, likely amongst other things, the sand heater she'd agonised over.

Taking a quick look around the room..nipping to the stairs and back..perusing the study area and pausing for a quick sip of water..she came to a decision. There was a place for that heater on her coffee table. It would be perfect; low enough down for her beau to kneel or sit by during his wash, and high enough up to limit the risk of it being knocked over to an absolute minimum.

She just had to get it there.

Slipping her pocket knife from its spot on her desk (ousted as it had been from its usual place in her pocket for her trip to the hospital), she set about doing severe structural harm to the box's lid, intent on getting to the heater and whatever else had been packed in with it. It took her a minute to get through reinforced cardboard, tape, foamy packaging material _and_ plain, sturdy wrapping paper, but she made it with little more than three paper cuts for her trouble. With that done, she was able to ease both parts of the heater - its study base and conical lid - from their confines, and transport them carefully down to their intended resting place on the table.

Two more trips between box and table saw the selection of sands she'd purchased, eight varieties set out neatly in an intricate stand that stood about a foot and a half high, delivered also, as well as the tools with which one would use the heater - a ladle, two brushes and a wide, shallow spoon. The fourth trip yielded a beautifully woven bathing mat that was rolled up and tied off with gauzy string, and the fifth a rough bag and a note from Kehksi that was written in neatly printed Basic.

'Thank you so much for your purchases, Commander' it read, 'and for your generous contribution to our little charity. Arashu bless your soul and keep you safe in troubled times.

- Kehksi'

So taken with it was she that she read it through twice before tucking it into her pocket and beginning what would be trip six back to the box. She was bent almost double over the thing, intent on rescuing a few final items from its very bottom, when a voice rang over the general comm.

-/Commander/-

"EDI?" she answered, her voice muffled by cardboard and packing paper. "What is it now?" She had visions of follow-up questions..of being a guinea pig or sounding board for ideas the AI had had since their talk in the elevator. What she got though was nothing like those things.

-/I've just received a hail from the Orizaba. You're being sought on Admiral Shepard's private frequency./-

The Commander practically threw herself upright, worry burning in her gut. She and her mother took pains to limit their on duty contact to an absolute minimum. They both knew that even the most encrypted Alliance walls had ears pressed against them, and only ever deemed getting in touch worth the risk of being snooped upon when it was an absolute necessity. Sharing worries about the Brass and the Crucible, in the strictest confidence and written in code, qualified..and so would a call for help.

The more important of those options got Shepard's attention first.

"Is it a distress call?" she demanded, ready to rescind the furlough she'd granted and haul out at the merest hint of an affirmative. Luckily for the crew and their precious downtime, EDI's response was a stalwart negatory.

-/No ma'm. Shall I establish a connection for you?/-

Settling slightly in the knowledge that a potentially God awful call had not come, Shepard blew a slow breath through her lips and considered her situation. She was torn. On the one hand she had the opportunity for a real-time heads-together with her mother..something she'd wanted since she'd emailed her days back..yet on the other she still had greatly enjoyable work to do here, sorting out the gifts and sundries she'd acquired for her mate.

It actually took thought for her to get moving, so intent was she on remaining where she was..on waiting for Thane and welcoming him in person..but she knew she couldn't pass up the chance she now had. He would be here later, she told herself, but Admiral Shepard damn well wouldn't be, especially if she was hailing from anywhere near the front line.

"I'll take it in the comms. room" she said, swiping a hand over her hair to clear away any lingering pieces of wrapping material. Once she was in the clear, she straightened her t-shirt up as best she could, grabbed Thane's glasses as a precaution against over enthusiastic light fittings and, after setting the room's ambient temperature to a Drellishly comfortable 27°C and leaving a quick Basic-written note on her desk..

'Had to take a call in the comms. room on Deck 2. Everything's fine. Will be back soon. Make yourself at home. This place is ours now. - A'

..made haste for the elevator.

"Double time it EDI" she said, slipping the glasses on as she tapped the [Floor 2] button.

It had never been wise, in her wide and colourful experience, to keep Shepard senior waiting for long.

* * *

><p>And now!<p>

_**Coming in the next chapter**_

The Shepards make a tentative plan.

And Thane finally makes it back to his quarters after his stop in the medical bay.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: Greetings all and welcome to chapter 10. Thank you for all of the thoughtful reviews, follows and favs. Getting them is really inspiring, and it's pleasing to know that the story is still being enjoyed. A tiny-small note - you might want to have the message Shepard wrote to her mother in chapter 4 open while you're reading, just so you can follow when she references back to it. It's quite easy, but still, chapter 4 was a long time ago :-)

Enjoy.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G_

* * *

><p><span>The Call<span>

**_In which the servicewomen Shepard brainstorm and Thane, after meeting someone he had only heard of from his Siha, finally makes it home_**

Not two minutes after she received word of Admiral Shepard's incoming hail, Commander Shepard strode through the War Room towards the Quantum Entanglement Communications area, Primarch Victus eyeing her face with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. She nodded to him as she passed on by, pressing her lips together to keep from grinning.

It was the glasses that threw him, she was certain.

When she reached her destination, she straightened her shirt and cargos and quickly retied her work-mussed ponytail before standing in her customary place at the comm. feed and addressing EDI. "EDI, activate the privacy screens and double encrypt the channel. Once that's done, dim the lights by a fifth in here and patch her through."

-/Of course, Commander./-

As the lights dimmed the required fraction, the Commander removed her borrowed glasses and slipped them into her pocket, her eyes now almost totally recovered from their earlier, Drell-induced bout of cataclysmic sensitivity. The low hum of the room's privacy screen, which blocked all noise from both entering and exiting the QEC area, sounded and eased into silence then, and with a muted flash and a dutiful.. -/Double encryption protocols active/- ..the connection was established and the Commander faced a woman she hadn't seen in the flesh for over three years. She didn't allow herself to smile openly, constrained as she was in that moment by protocol, but behind her eyes she was beaming.

A small and slender five feet to her daughter's strapping, father-given five eight, Hannah Shepard stood front and centre, all blonde hair, green eyes, impeccable uniform and _distinct_ military bearing, and focused on her child's face for a long moment..really taking her in and savouring the sight of her..before speaking to her directly. "Commander Shepard" she said, snapping to and saluting crisply as her daughter did the same.

"Admiral Shepard" the Commander replied, relaxing into her usual 'at ease' posture, hands at her back, feet apart, when the Admiral gestured for her to do so. "How can I help you Ma'm?" she asked. "I get the feeling that this isn't a social call."

Hannah replied with a question of her own. "Are we watertight, Commander?" Her word-choice would have lost anyone except her girl, and it was meant to, but her meaning, two-pronged as it was and between them alone, was clear. The first was an implication. She was using their code, their little personal language of implication and double-speak, and was warning the Commander that she should do so in kind. Despite the precautions she had taken in setting up this call, she had no reason to trust that people – from Cerberus, to Reapers, to Batarians, to grudge-holding news anchors who'd been continuously denied the opportunity to paint her daughter in a discourteous light – weren't at least trying to listen in, and she wasn't about to risk a leak. On that note, her second implication, this one directly alluded to by the question she'd asked, concerned security.

_Is our connection here watertight? Is it safe to speak as freely as we ever do when we aren't in person?_

"As a duck's, Ma'm" Shepard responded, allowing herself a little grin as her mother gave an amused, if slightly wry huff. _Tight as a duck's arse_, while rather crude, got the point about the safety of their link across neatly.

"Ten four, but still" she said, her expression hardening as the Commander nodded her understanding. "And yes, you're right. This isn't a social call. That said, how's the weather?"

_All right, but I still don't trust it_. _Where are you? Are you in danger?_

"We're three short of a spider" she replied, giving their rather unique codeword for the Citadel - which has five arms and is therefore three short of a spider's eight - before adding, "No trench work. And you? Weather good?"

_We're on the Citadel. We haven't been on the front line recently. How're you? Are you safe?_

"Cold trenches and wide eyes" Hannah clipped, "Weather's black."

_We haven't seen the front lines either. We've got our eyes open. We're watching. Scouting. We're out in the black. Out in space._

She wouldn't, couldn't be any more specific than that, and the Commander couldn't blame her. Giving another slight nod to convey her understanding, she got down to business. "Shopping, Ma'm?" she asked, referencing the email she'd sent to her and its mention of looking for a new plan for dealing, somehow, with the war and the Crucible.

_Is that why you've contacted me? Do you want to talk about it?_

Hannah drew in a breath, letting it out slowly and closing her eyes for a moment; readying herself for what she knew would be a tense discussion. When she opened them again, she said, "Partly. Cat on a hot tin roof about that here, Commander."

_There're other things I want to talk about too, but yes. The Crucible makes me terribly uncomfortable_.

"Back at you" Shepard replied, frowning empathically. "Grapevine?"

_Me too. Heard anything about it recently? Anything on the grapevine?_

Hannah pursed her lips tightly, considering how to put across what she knew. "Bits and pieces. The home team is the only one involved with the ornament so far. It's early days still, but everyone's keen as mustard. The Boardroom isn't considering other options at this point. Not seriously at least. Murmurs. Nothing more. And you? Bought anything new?"

_I know a little. The Alliance is the only faction/group/race involved so far in the Crucible's construction. It's early days, but everyone involved is **very** eager about it. The Brass/High Command isn't considering other options seriously. There're murmurs about alternatives, but nothing concrete or worth a mention. What about you? Know anything I don't?_

The Commander's lips thinned also, an unconscious mirror of her mother's expression. "As far as we know, the ornament was the last ditch of the last cycle too" she began, pointing out that the Crucible, to the best of the knowledge of she and the persons-unspecified she was getting her intel from (Liara mostly, with helpful titbits from EDI on occasion), had been the Protheans' last resort. "There's no evidence that it was ever finished, and its capacity and scope are unknown. Other than that and what the thing looks like on paper, we know about as much as anyone else in the know."

_We have its schematics, but outside of that we know almost nothing about it_.

Hannah nodded, filling in blanks in her knowledge as and when she could. "Called the builders yet, have you?"

_Have you found anyone with any knowledge of how to put the thing together yet?_

"God's got me on that" Shepard replied. "He's searching wide. All teams considered. Says we'll need all the help we can get."

_Admiral Hackett's made doing that my priority. He's made it clear that we'll need help from races outside of Humanity if we're going to get anywhere with it._

"Nonspecific's. How's that going?"

_I know you can't talk specifically about your missions, but how are things looking generally?_

The Commander paused, thinking through her answer carefully. In all honesty, things were a bloody _mess_. She'd never been good at playing politician and now, suddenly, when her skills as a soldier and a leader of men were most needed, she'd been shunted by circumstances into a role for which she was untried.

As simply as she could put it, the situation now was this: the Turians were holding out on providing anything like active aid until Palaven received Krogan support, and she was still waiting on a date and place on which to begin talks with Primarch Victus and her old ally Urdnot Wrex about how to make that happen. To complicate things further, the Salarians were adamant that a Dalatrass be present when those talks occurred, and that..that turned what was likely to be a volatile situation into something that could start another war very, very easily.

As to the rest of the galaxy..to the Drell and the Hanar..the Asari..the Volus..the Elcor..the Quarians..hell, the Geth..she didn't know. Lines were either dead or tapped, and she didn't want to draw herself any deeper into politics and potential interracial frictions than she already was. She didn't know enough, wasn't well placed enough, and had too little time to make anything but a mess of such an endeavour.

"I don't know much about a good number of the teams" she began, putting that lack of knowledge across clearly before going on. "Remember the Rachni wars Ma'm?"

The Admiral nodded. "Of course."

"No names. Take out the bugs. Who's left?"

_Don't name the races aloud when you answer. Who were the major players in that war except the Rachni?_

"The one that killed the bugs and the ones that worked together and stopped the killers." She frowned, shocked. "That mess?"

_The Krogan killed the Rachni. The Turians and Salarians stopped the Krogan. You're involved in that debacle somehow?_

Shepard nodded shortly.

Hannah puffed a breath between her lips, her brows raising. The expression was at odds with the severity of her question. "Playing peacemaker?"

**_Please_**_ tell me you're somehow involved in peace talks, not playing soldier._

"If it's possible, I'll get it done. I don't know if it's possible yet."

_Yes, if a peaceful resolution is achievable. I haven't gotten too far with that yet though._

The puff became a low whistle, soft and quick. "Tread lightly Commander" she finally said. "That's a powder keg, right there."

"Don't I know it. Everything's about the ornament though, Ma'm. Playing peacemaker and all. That's the focus, and I do get why. It's not like there's anything else on sale, right?"

_All of my missions are geared towards the same goal; finding support to build the Crucible, and much as I don't like it, I understand why. It's not like there are many other options, right?_

Both women were quiet for a long moment, each as deep in thought as the other._ What other options indeed_, Hannah mused. Anything like an offensive strike against the Reapers would be suicidal without support, and at present there was no support to be had. The galaxy was reeling.

This was not the time to be making demands.

Running for the hills had saved a good portion of the Fleet, but there was no way in hell that the human race was going to go the way of the Quarians. Earth wouldn't be ceded before it was a burned-out husk. She knew that much in her gut.

And other than those two unworkable paths..what was there?

There was using the Crucible..but what else..?

"That's the question, isn't it" she finally replied, meeting the Commander's eyes. "So few resources. So few hands. So many enemies." She paused minutely before concluding, "Whatever our direction ends up being..be it keeping the ornament or whatever else..God's right to be looking far and wide."

_Our eventual direction needs to be something that transcends the Alliance, be it the Crucible or some other thing we've yet to pin down. Admiral Hackett is right in having you seek out help from other races._

Shepard hummed her agreement. "Amen to that. I'm dry for ideas though Ma'm, honestly. I've got my shopping list and I'm going through it, but.."

_I agree, but I still haven't got a blind clue about what that other thing might be. I've got my orders, my missions, and I'm ticking them off as I complete them..gathering what I can..but.._

Admiral Shepard gave a slight, understanding nod. "Small potatoes, yes Commander?"

_You don't feel like you're making a difference, do you?_

The Commander returned the nod tightly. "Yes Ma'm."

_You're right, I don't._

Hannah's answering smile was as tight as her daughter's nod. Since the war began, she too had been picking up the pieces; trying to coordinate and gather lost pockets of the Fleet to take some of the pressure off of an already swamped Admiral Hackett. In the grand scheme of things, with planets and colonies going dark left and right, she felt impotent, useless, and as though she was wasting her time each and every day. Every fibre in her being, just like every single one in her daughter's, resonated in the same way.

Fight.

Take back Earth.

Take it back now. **NOW** Shepard.

It was simply the way she was wired. The way _they_ were wired.

She knew though that that option was beyond her at present, and that it would remain beyond her and her people if they didn't come up with some kind of a way forward. For that reason, in search of a plan or possibility for progress that didn't curdle the blood in her veins with trepidation, she'd told Commander Shepard of her worries about the direction High Command was taking. About their fixation on the Crucible to the exclusion of most everything else. She'd hoped that by doing so, her girl's comparatively vast experience in dealing with Reapers might be put to good use in looking up alternative ways to kill the damn things, instead of being squandered on tiptoeing through politics and pick-up-and-drops.

Turning away briefly then, she pressed a couple of buttons on the display before her and watched, as the Commander did, as a glowing holographic Reaper appeared between them. "I understand the feeling, and I'm getting frustrated with ornaments" she said, diverting their talk away from the dratted Crucible and gesturing to the hologram. "Let's talk about the real problem instead, hm? At least we've got a vague idea how these work."

"Arrive and destroy" Shepard opined crisply, glaring at the display. "I've been trying to think them into a real foe. Get my head around them enough to make them seem less like all hell and damnation. So far.." she huffed with both exhaustion and exasperation, "I don't know. That's my answer to most things these days. I just _don't know_."

The Admiral narrowed her eyes slightly, probing, "Turn that around. Tell me what you do know."

Shepard frowned."Ma'm?"

She pointed to the hologram. "What is that? Describe it to me."

For a moment, her brain stalled, blind-sided by the request. Unable to pierce her mother's logic in asking what she had, she looked at the hologram and gave answering the old college try. "Err..that's a Sovereign-class Reaper. One of their 'Capital Ship' types." Stepping a pace closer, she reached for the glittering representation of what she assumed was Sovereign itself and manipulated it, manoeuvring it into the position this particular kind of Reaper takes when landing - 'head' down, 'legs' braced and ready, back-end high as it balances. "Two kilometres from end to end, they're hellish fast and can turn in ways that'd shear any of our ships in half. Added to that, their offensive capacity's unholy." She pointed to each of the larger 'legs', getting well into her stride as she spoke. "Each of these, and its 'head', are equipped with cannons which fire a beam that can cut through just about anything we've got, defensive-wise, and its arse-end, up here.." a finger was flicked towards the hologram's bulbous rear "..from there it emits Oculi; spheres that're the Reaper equivalent of fighter jets in both size and function. In short.." she took a breath, held it for a beat, then blew it out through her lips, "..it's a Goddamn beast of a thing."

"Do they have weaknesses?"

"Everything dies if you shoot it enough, but that's not what you meant." She regarded the hologram with a mixture of anger and concentration. "Tactically.." again she gestured to the Reaper's hind-end, "I'd say this is the 'safe' end of an entirely unsafe thing. I've never seen these.." then to the small 'legs' tucked against its flanks, "used offensively, and I know the big ones here.." and then to the large, tentacle-like legs it used to stand, "can't rotate far enough to fire behind it. That said, the Oculi live up there, so the lack of overt defences like the ones on its face kind of ring hollow. Even if we jumped it from behind, it'd release those damn things and whip around on us."

"Do you know that?"

Shepard blinked, taken aback for the second time in as many minutes. "Beg pardon?"

"An assault from the rear" the Admiral clarified, intent. "Have you ever seen it done? Do you know the Reaper would react the way you said?"

"No Ma'm. I've never seen a direct from-the-rear assault of the kind we're talking about attempted on a Capital Ship. There're a lot of educated guesses and 'I don't knows' here, as I said before." Unsure whether she liked the interest in her mother's expression, she reverted to their bitty code and asked, "Something wet your palate?"

_Something piqued your interest?_

"A small thing.." she replied, nodding slowly, thinking as she spoke. Her answer was without code or implication. It simply was what it was. "We need to do something about all of these 'don't knows', Commander."

Shepard inclined her head slightly, guardedly. "We do at that, but this is hardly the time to play safari and observe the bastards that're setting the galaxy alight."

"No one said anything about observations" Hannah corrected quickly. "Not of the type you're thinking of at least. I don't want to watch the damn things, I want to blow them out of the sky, and we need to get rid of all the 'don't know how's' around doing _that_."

"How?" the Commander asked, incredulous. "I've got two to my name, and with Sovereign I had an entire Fleet's-worth of firepower behind me. That's not exactly a record I'd plan to win a war on. Two out of what? Two thousand? Three? Ten?"

The Admiral shook her head, waving away the numbers. "We need to think bigger here. Like God said, outside of the Alliance."

"I agree. But where? To who? I think we'd have heard if any of the other races were having a field day in the Reaper-killing stakes. So far all I'm getting is panic, casualty reports, and orders from God to get boots on the ground in places that aren't Earth."

"Keep your nose down and ears sharp as you move those boots" Hannah advised, "You never know who might have what to spare these days. Ask around. See if you can find anyone who either has or wants to have the kind of kill-record we need. Anyone with a Reaper to their name. The entire galaxy's facing them now. There must have been some successful strikes against the sons-of-bitches, and we need the intel from each to better learn what works." Easing her tone then, she gave a little smile despite the severe topic and added, "And speaking of spares..apples, hm?" to both lighten the mood a hint and convey another little coded message.

It took a moment, but the Commander soon caught on. "They were soft" she said, returning the smile as it became clear that Admiral Lindholm, she who had provided her and her crew with four crates of apples before they made tracks to the Citadel, had been in touch with either her mother or someone who had passed along the tale to her. Whatever the truth of their communication was, what mattered was that it had occurred at all.

The Fleet was slowly coming back to itself.

"They had a right to be" Hannah ribbed, enjoying the moment's levity. "They were almost a month old and just out of containment. I'm surprised they didn't poison you."

A resounding "HA!" echoed off the comm. room's walls as Shepard grinned mightily, if briefly. "If I can stomach bureaucracy enough to drown a Krogan, I can survive an Admiral's cast-offs. And to your suggestion, Ma'm" she said, getting back on track, "I have been and will be. If an opportunity comes along, I'll leap for it with both hands."

The Admiral nodded. "Make sure you do."

* * *

><p>"Make sure you do."<p>

Such was the parting instruction of one Karin Chakwas, over an hour after Admiral Shepard had given her presently comm. room-bound daughter the very same, to a slowly escaping Thane Krios. The man had been easing his way towards the Medical Bay's door for the past five minutes or so, looking for the perfect moment, the perfect break in the conversation held between himself, Karin and Doctor Pyral, to make a break for it, and now, with parting pleasantries exchanged and a hearty handshake given to the soon-to-be-departing Salarian, he saw his chance. He had a foot out the door when the good doctor spoke her final edict for the day, making him promise that he would take it easy for the duration of his stay aboard the Normandy, and after giving her his word that he would do just that and bowing deeply to both physicians, he turned, the door closing at his back, to face the empty mess.

Pausing to revel in the quiet, Thane took a deep breath and let it out in a slow, resonant, Drellish smile - one which is conveyed with the voice, not the lips. He had every right to his outwardly muted glee. His only pre-set task for the afternoon, barring returning himself to his rightful place in the quarters he and his Siha shared on the first floor, was over.

He was _free_.

His time, finally, was his own to do with what he pleased, and _what he pleased_ at present..wasn't what one would assume to be his first choice for an activity, all things considered. He did not, in this very second, want to rush up to his quarters to reunite with his mate. He had a mind to make his way there, certainly, but there was something he had to investigate before he could make tracks; something he'd seen on his way to the Medical Bay that called out for his attention.

Giving the room a final glance to triple-check that it was as clear as it first appeared, Thane took to his heels and stole through the space briskly, stopping only when he faced the memorial erected on the wall facing the elevator's currently closed doors. Taller than he was and punctuated in its centre by the Alliance's symbol, it held two neat rows of name-plates in memory of the fallen. These plates ran from the memorial's very top to its very bottom, and he was pleased, as much as one can be pleased at all when faced with such a thing, to note two things about them as he looked them over.

Firstly, only a comparatively small number of them had been inscribed with a name.

And secondly, selfishly, he didn't recognise a single one he saw as being that of a personal acquaintance.

For those blessings, he sent a silent prayer of thanks to Arashu, and for the departed, the unknown souls upon the wall before him, he would direct one to Kalahira, for it was she who would be concerned with them now. Clasping his hands before him, he lowered his head a fraction and directed his focus inwards.

_Kalahira, Goddess of the endless depths, you have in your care now the souls of.._

He began on the wall's left hand side, recounting each name.

_Abishek Pakti_

_Alexei Dubyansky_

_Carlton Tucks_

_Charles Pressly_

..

As his devotions went on, the hiss of a door opening on the other side of the mess caught Thane's attention. He made no move to halt his prayer, some things being more important to him than greeting every second person who stumbled upon him in a public place, but his training-honed senses picked up certain things about the unknown person without his having to focus on them.

The soft, swift click of low, practical heels led him to assume that they were both female and most certainly not his mate. She made wearing the things sound like such torture that he knew she would never willing don them, and to his knowledge she had no reason to put herself through that now. The stride-length brought him to the same conclusion - that this new person was not his mate. Her gait was purposeful and a hint slower, given her height, than the smaller, quicker steps of she who was making her way in his direction now.

His litany continued..

_Germeen Barret_

_Harvey J. Gladstone_

_Helen M. Lowe_

_Jamin Bakari_

..as did his guest's approach. She was closer now. He could hear faint, disgruntled murmurings in a distinctly feminine tone of voice. Something about numbers not adding up and comm. lines being difficult to crack. He tuned the words out, unwilling to devote time to them when he had a more important task to accomplish.

_Mandira Rahman_

_Raymond Tanaka_

_Richard L. Jenkins_

_Robert Felawa_

The walker rounded the corner between mess and walkway then, saying "EDI, I.." before her words died away with a gasp and Thane felt her eyes upon him. The fact that she lingered nearby neither surprised him, used as he was to receiving attention for being a member of 'that rare species' people seldom came across, nor deterred his attention from the wall. If she wanted to speak with him, she would wait. He would apologise for his preoccupation when he was finished with his prayer.

_Addison Chase_ he recounted, beginning at the top of the right-most column now.

_Amina Waaberi_

_Caroline Grenado_

_Hector Emerson_

_Kaidan Alenko_

Words then that were not his. "It's a sad thing, isn't it? Having this here." He ignored them.

_Marcus Greico_

_Monica Negulesco_

_Orden Laflamme_

_Rosamund Draven_

_Silas Crosby_

_Talitha Draven_

_.._

_Grant these souls the rest and succour their lives and honoured deaths have earned them. Let their peace be eternal, and their rewards great, and let their families find peace in the knowledge that their sacrifices were not in vain, and will never be forgotten._

His prayer complete, Thane straightened, relaxing his stance and finally canting his head towards the woman who had crossed the room to find him here. She had spoken to him, and politeness demanded an answer from him now that the Goddess and the fallen were not his chief concern.

"It is, yes" he agreed, taking in the fact that his guest was not obviously armed and was standing a respectful eight feet from him before he allowed himself to notice the youthfulness of her features and the freckles on her rounded blue cheeks. Here was an Asari who had barely entered the Maiden stage. She wore practical white and blue clothing that looked to be strengthened and reinforced in much the same way his work attire was, and was worrying the gloved fingers of her right hand with those of her left as she met his eyes. In his practised opinion, her posture and expression conveyed equal parts reserve and tightly controlled nervousness. Concerned by this, he drew breath to ease her, assuming that her apparent discomfort stemmed from the fact that she had been told of his coming and therefore knew of his reputation, but she spoke first..

"Welcome aboard Sere Krios. I had hoped to meet you prior to beginning our time as colleagues. I'm Liara T'Soni"

..and with that, his wonderings about her manner were put to rest. When last he had heard that name, it was on his Siha's lips; his Siha who, almost a year ago, had been shaking with rage as she recounted a stilted version of what had transpired between she and Liara earlier that day in the mess. Unwilling as she'd been to stress him while he was ailing and confined to the Medical Bay, she told him nothing of what had caused their altercation, or how she had managed to tear the skin on two of her knuckles during it, but the fact that it had happened, and that Liara had been summarily shipped back to her station on Hagalaz in the immediate aftermath, spoke volumes for the severity of what occurred.

It was no wonder therefore that the young woman seemed a hint edgy.

She was currently standing in a place that, not a year back, she had been cast out from.

Her words though interested Thane more than her manner. Referring to him as her colleague implied that she resided aboard the ship on at least a semi-permanent basis, which in turn implied that things between she and his mate had smoothed over in his absence.

Undeniably curious, he resolved to investigate the matter further.

"Liara" he greeted, moving his latent annoyance at her having upset his Siha so terribly to the back of his mind and offering her his hand. "I apologise for my inattention. Prayers for the departed must be given the time those we remember when giving them deserve. I am pleased to meet you."

"As I am you. Congratulations on your recovery" Liara replied, the worry fluttering in her belly easing only slightly at the man's cultured politeness and the steady but gentle pressure of his fingers around hers. She knew from her time working on Illium that such things were often representative of little other than a person's desire to appear inoffensive, and pressed on quickly with what, as of the moment she'd learned of his imminent arrival three or so days back, she wanted..no.._needed_..to discuss with him.

There was the potential for great unrest if she didn't handle things correctly.

"I don't mean to seem abrupt, Sere" she began, minding to use the respectful Drellish mode of address until she was sure of the safety of the interpersonal ground she was walking on with him, "but I wanted to make sure that there will be no friction between us. As I'm sure you know, when I visited the Normandy during your last tour the Commander and I had an..altercation. I don't want that to have spoiled what could be a fine working relationship before it has even had a chance to develop."

Hearing her, Thane perceived a new layer to their interaction - a layer that, when his Siha had told him of what had occurred between she and Liara, she had not shared and he had not noticed. It seemed as if whatever it was that had transpired had concerned _him_ somehow. Even if he discarded what the young Asari had just said, which gave him cause enough to guardedly approach this conclusion, the evidence was as plain as day in her expression.

The uncertainty.

The..worry.

The resignation to being judged for something that happened long ago in the heat of the moment when emotions were high.

Such things are only present when the person you're speaking to has a personal stake in something you've done in the past that you aren't in the least bit proud of.

Probing then, he sought to test whether his deduction regarding his place in their long-past argument was sound. It could be, after all, that he had made a mistake in judgement; that Liara was simply trying to save face regarding what she saw as disreputable behaviour on her part during the moment in question, and that it had no personal significance to him at all. Going on her words and body language this was a slim possibility at best, but he had to be sure. "Why would that have caused friction between us?" he asked. "I was not present, and know very little about what transpired."

For a brief moment, an odd mixture of shock and relief flittered through the Asari's expression. It disappeared as she asked, "..How much, precisely?" in a careful, tentative way; affirming without needing to openly acknowledge the truth of his conclusion.

Had he not been a central factor in their disagreement, she would not have cared to ask.

"That it happened in the mess" he replied, glancing towards the area he spoke of, "and that the Commander was greatly shaken by it. Anything else, she did not deign appropriate to share with me."

Again, relief coloured Liara's expression. "I'll respect her discretion then" she said, sighing gratefully at the fact that the most..contentious parts of their disagreement had seemingly been left unsaid, "and extend my apologies regardless. It was a..fraught..time for both of us. We were not at our best."

"For whatever occurred, I accept the apology" Thane assured her, noting then with a mind to sate the curiosity that her talk of being 'colleagues' had lit in him earlier, "but I must wonder..I recall her anger vividly.."

Liara smothered a wince. "As do I."

"..and yet, and I mean this in by no means an intemperate manner, you are stationed aboard her ship. Are things now settled between you? You seemed so concerned by the thought of my potential anger that I wonder..if they are not."

Giving a soft huff at the man's insight, the young doctor shook her head. "I joined the Normandy when the Commander went to Mars to locate a piece of Prothean data. I had already located it, and was being chased down by Cerberus when she arrived. Our reunion was.." She glanced around quickly, unwilling to share this if anyone else was passing by. At the hall's emptiness and the silence from the mess, she went on. "She was completely professional, and she has been ever since."

Trying to square the emotionally haggard woman in his memories with the cool, professional one Liara described, Thane prompted, "That is surely a good thing."

The Asari frowned slightly, caught between nodding and shaking her head. "I remember her from our first tour together" she said almost wistfully. "Before Cerberus and the Collectors..Illium and..well..everything. She was..different. I was a little in awe of her, and we became close friends. I got used to the warmth of her company, and now.." she shook her head, "it's gone."

At the regret in her voice, Thane wished he could speak words of comfort to her. Something like.. 'She doesn't mean it' or, 'Give her time and she will warm to you again', but he didn't feel that he could say such things and remain honest. He knew as well as Ami herself did that she meant every inch of every interaction she was involved in, and if distance was what she wanted, distance was what she'd have. And he knew further that, in this instance, time was an unlikely healer. Patient and forgiving as she was, the woman didn't forget betrayals, and from the way Liara spoke of their past relationship, the altercation they'd had must have felt like one of immense proportions if it earned from her the reaction it did.

"I am..unsure whether you would accept my counsel on this" he finally put in, his words careful, "but if you would.."

"I would" Liara replied. "Shepard values it over any other's and, much as we don't see eye-to-eye as we did once, I trust her judgement."

The oddly knowing undertone to that statement pricked Thane's interest, diverting his mind from his offer of advice to something much more pressing. "You know this?" he asked, wondering how this woman he had neither met nor worked with in the past knew of how his Siha favoured him as a confidant.

Although it was meant to be disarming, and was spoken through a little smile, her reply.. "I am a very good Information Broker, Sere" ..turned his blood to ice.

The fact that she had once worked in the information trade was not new to him. His mate had spoken of her warmly after seeing her on Illium early in their mission, and he had thought little else of her until Ami told him of their confrontation in the mess. Today however, now, with the first seven of the eight words she had just spoken, everything changed. The casual flippancy she showed as she spoke in a manner which implied that she knew quite how well he and the Commander were acquainted was not something he could stomach; not while she was happy, in the same breath, to call herself an 'Information Broker'. A distinctly specific Information Broker, that which he knew Liara had replaced after their mission to Hagalaz and who had, as she seemed to have done, gained access to information about him and those close to him, had once cost him his world and that, he concluded as he stared quite pointedly into the woman's eyes, would **_not_** be allowed to happen again.

Her allegiance to and past acquaintance with his mate be-damned, her presence would not go unnoticed, and would be responded to as the situation demanded in due time. If she remained trustworthy in his eyes, she would remain on the ship. If not, his unique appreciation of great loss, security and protectiveness demanded that she be dealt with before harm could come to him and his.

It was nothing in the least bit personal.

It was simply the way things had to be.

Blinking himself free of his machinations, he consciously warmed his demeanour a hint and eased back into their conversation as if nothing had occurred to him in the second or two of silence that had passed since she spoke.

"I've no doubt that you are" he said, before diverting their conversation back onto the advice he had thought to give her. "And as to the Commander, try not to trouble yourself with thoughts of what has been lost. Think instead of what you still have with her." What he asked her next seemed honestly curious, but was actually entirely contrived as a way through which he could estimate the depth of his mate's trust in the Asari. "She still seeks your counsel, yes?"

Liara nodded. "Yes"

"And she has taken you out on missions with her?"

"A few, yes."

"And on those, she has responded appropriately to the situations you faced and done her duty as your commanding officer?"

Again, she nodded. "She has."

Thane tipped his head a thoughtful degree to the right, considering her answers and what they meant in terms of whether or not the Commander had worried, or did worry, the way he did. His true answer would come later, when he sat the woman down and flat-out asked her to justify in at least two ways why he shouldn't take up keeping an assassin's eye on the Asari as a secondary occupation, but for now, on the evidence, he'd say she was treating her in much the way Liara had said she was; with professional courtesy and with a mind to her strengths as a source of hard-to-come-by information.

"That is the true test of her regard for you, I think" he concluded, returning the nod. Taking a half-step back then, he added a courteous, "Please don't let me keep you any longer, Liara. We shall speak again soon, I'm sure" and with that he turned and made for the elevator, newly intent on getting to his quarters and away from she who had caused him such unintentional yet piercing unease.

In his wake Liara, slightly fuddled by his swift departure but otherwise relieved, heaved a sigh and allowed herself a private smile. In her mind, everything had gone about as swimmingly as it could have, given the circumstances.

..

In Thane's..this was _not_ so.

* * *

><p>Back on Deck two, the meeting between Commander and Admiral Shepard had long since roared into full swing. Points and counterpoints had been made and were still to be made, and they were triangulating on something like what might be called an 'idea' which would, if judged to be workable in the court of their combined experience, form a part of the overall tentative plan that had begun to take shape between them. Whether or not the current topic of conversation would turn into a workable part of said plan..<p>

..

..Well..

"Three words Ma'm" Shepard said, holding up a finger as she reeled each off, "Tactical. Orbital. Strike."

Hannah scoffed. "I hope you're joking. I'm not risking the Orizaba for a bombing run, and besides, it'd never work unless you were engaging the thing on the ground at the same time. Keeping it grounded while we lined up the shot. Also, the risk of collateral damage from firing a ferrous slug **TOWARDS A PLANET **would be..well it wouldn't just be a risk Commander. It'd be a certainty. There must be another way."

They were talking about a smaller kind of Reaper in place of the Capital Ships they'd been focused on before - a 'Destroyer' it was called - and were running simulations on possible methods of engaging one in combat. Not that either of them entertained notions of seeking one out to do just that, but it paid to be prepared.

That was their plan.

To prepare themselves and anyone else who'd listen to them. To seek out those who had intel on destroying Reapers, to get word of the need for options that weren't the Crucible out there, and to hunt around to see if any such options presented themselves. If they did, they'd convene another meeting just like this one and rake the ideas over carefully to weigh their merits, and if those outweighed the risks..hell..there might be some fieldwork to be done.

"I don't know.." Shepard interjected, grinning widely enough to show her teeth. Serious as things were, she was enjoying this. "You do have other guns aboard that thing, and if you look here.." she pointed to the latest line of attack highlighted on the hologram, and was drawing breath to elaborate on the idea she was in the process of sharing when a strident **BLIP** cut her off. Hannah blinked, leaning forward a little as the Commander turned suddenly sheepish.

"What was that?"

"Just a message on the Tool Ma'm" she said, gesturing to her Omni-tool. "It's nothing, let's carry o-"

"Give it a glance at least" she advised. "It'll drive you up the wall otherwise. It would me, not knowing what'd been sent."

"But t-"

"You're wasting time."

Shepard needed no more telling. Although she'd fussed, she was glad of the woman's insistence. They both knew the importance of keeping on top of the mail in times of war, each message having the potential to be game-changing, and she'd been right about the not knowing too.

With quick fingers, she opened up the Tool's user interface and accessed the message.

'Commander' it read, 'Come down to Medbay when you have a moment. There's nothing wrong. I'd just like to have a quick chat.

He's a damned _miracle_.

- Chakwas.'

..

..

She stared at the thing for what felt like a lifetime.. ..the utter **DREAD** she felt at being asked for in the Medical Bay so soon after her mate had boarded easing slightly at the phrase 'There's nothing wrong'.. ..as the fact that she'd have to go down there **_before_** going back up to her quarters sank in. If she didn't, the need to know what she'd been called down _for_ would be hanging over her all evening, and she wasn't going to risk the doctor calling again when she was even less inclined, due to sharing Thane's company, to go and see her than she was now.

A tense second passed in which the Commander wasn't sure if she could speak again without colouring the air blue with frustrated cursing..but then..slowly, carefully, methodically and with exacting self-control, she minimised the message window and turned back to her mother's now curiously watchful hologram. Then, she let out a slow breath, willed the tightness in her posture to relax into something like what it had been earlier in their talk, and shoved thoughts of having to spend even longer outside of her mate's company away.

She would see him later.

There was nothing to worry about.

There was work still to do.

"Now then" she managed, forcing her voice into something resembling calm. "Where were we?"

Both amused and bemused by her daughter's sudden turn, Hannah quirked a brow and refocused on the Destroyer and their latest proposed strategy to engage it.

Whatever had got the woman's goat would have to wait.

There was a great deal more to discuss.

* * *

><p>As the Commander's day grew lengthier with the receipt of the good doctor's message, Thane's found him travelling up to Deck one, brooding over the meeting that had just occurred by the memorial.<p>

In his rapidly ascending metal box, he gave a derisory, disquieted grumble.

It seemed he was unable to have even ten short minutes of free time without running into something that required professional attention from him. He couldn't help wondering, as the elevator whisked him on his way, whether the keenness of his training and his innately suspicious nature were more burden than benefit at times like these. Times when, really speaking, all he wanted to do was curl up somewhere warm and comfortable with his mate and show her, quite thoroughly and with due reverence, how much he had missed her.

The thought of doing just that quickening him, he filed away his suspicions about the Shadow Broker - for that was who Liara now was in his mind, she had no other label - for later and stepped through the lift's doors as soon as they opened out onto the small corridor that prefaced the Captain's quarters. He covered the distance between the elevator and his destination in three long strides, and was greeted as he entered the room by a wall of warm air and an equally tangible, equally welcoming flash of memories; fragments from different points in time drawing him further inside.

-_'You're here!' she says, greeting me as I step into the room. Her hands extend, reaching for me for a brief, brave moment before they fall away to her sides. The pulse in her throat is hard enough that I see it racing. I can empathise with her nerves. Demure and chaste as it is and must be for both our comforts, this is the first time she and I have sought each other out for what might clumsily be called a 'date'. My heart is racing also. 'I've made tea' she says, her cheeks flushing pink as she speaks. 'Come on in. I'll pour.'-_

As he moved forward at the memory's behest, another came; the image of Amial smiling shyly at him and inviting him in being overlaid and then replaced by another from a later juncture.

-_She turns from me and walks towards the stairs, quite aware, if her gait is anything to go by, of how my eyes have begun lingering on her form more openly these past weeks. Through all of our differences, she is a fine woman; Drellishly feminine in certain, specific..strikingly alluring ways.. ..The slender neck..the sight and feeling, I recall, of her muscles, firm beneath her skin..and the telltale sway of her hips and rear.. ..I follow. I find cannot not_.-

Coming to a stop by her desk, his right hand resting upon it lightly, Thane blinked himself free of the sight of his mate and her gently swaying hips and drew himself back into the here and now. Part of him half expected her to be standing before him in the flesh..his memories having in the past lead him into her arms without a lick of conscious effort on his part..but when he found that she was not, and indeed seemed not to have even registered his presence if the lack of any kind of greeting was anything to go by, he looked around and took in the room; intent on seeking her out.

Dim-lit and quiet, with boxes dotted by the door and his cases in the sleeping area, the place looked as though a whirlwind of activity had torn through, only to be ousted before it could finish its task.

"Siha?" he called, wondering where his usually militarily neat mate had disappeared to so hurriedly as to abandon the room in such a state.

No answer. Even EDI, all-knowing, all-seeing EDI was silent, as if her mind was otherwise occupied.

"Siha?" he tried again, glancing with a keen eye around the room in search of her. Again he got no answer, and he was turning, concerned by her seemingly unexplained absence, to check if the washroom's lock was engaged - her being indisposed within as sure a reason as any for her not to answer his calls - when a slip of paper upon the desk, her once-left note, caught his eye. Reading it..taking in the familiar hand it was written in..the mention of an incoming call she had taken in the comm. room and the request she'd made of him..'Make yourself at home'..he felt himself relax.

It was work that had intruded, nothing more sinister than that.

Nothing threatening or needful of his pointed, swift interference.

Nothing that would unseat the too-good-to-be-true truth of their situation.

Nothing that would part them again.

Just work.

Settled by that knowledge, Thane set his mind to doing precisely what his mate had requested of him. He put the note back down where he'd found it, turned to the small interface on the wall beside the stairs, and increased the ambient temperature by another half-degree before making his way down into the room's designating sleeping area to neaten the place up. It was unlike both he and his Siha to tolerate disorder of this magnitude for any longer than absolutely necessary, and that moment had passed when he was assured of her safety and free to pursue thoughts other than those which centred on ensuring that very thing.

When he got down there however, and allowed himself to actually look the place over aesthetically instead of seeking out signs of his mate's presence, he found himself given great pause. Yes, the place was a hint on the mussed side, but that fact dimmed into nothingness at the sight of _it_; their bed, made the way it had been on his last trip into this room; white duvet and pillows giving way to the rich blueish-purple of their blanket. He grit his teeth against the memory of that day, of him wheezing with the effort of hefting the thing and packing it away for his trip to the hospital, of the pain in his chest and the taste of blood in his mouth, and instead turned away from it and drew to the fore, with a deep breath as defiant punctuation, a far more pleasant one.

- _We are sitting beside one another on the divan, a random talking head on the news channel that cycles away to itself on the open screen of the Omni-tool sat between our mugs of tea on the low table before us. The whispery feeling of her breath against my cheek tells me that, as distracted from the broadcast as I am by her, she is by me. She has been studying my profile for some time now. I am curious of her intent._

_'Siha?' I ask, beginning to turn to her when her fingers, light and respectful, stop me. They land upon my jaw, closer to my chin than my throat, and fan out slowly as I still._

_'I'm looking' she says, anticipating my question..'What preoccupies you so?'..before I speak it. I do wonder sometimes, if we are of the same mind, she and I._

_'May I ask at what?'_

_Her breath comes a little more warmly now. She has shifted closer. 'I've found a pleat that's not like the others on your cheeks. It's close to your frill. Near the underside, but not quite under it exactly. About the width of my smallest finger from it. Why's it different?'_

_My lips quirk slightly in a smile, and I feel her fingers move from my jaw towards the source of her interest. There was once a time when I would have murmured a cautionary, 'Gently please' at such a move, but now she needs no telling. The tip of her index finger strokes lightly across the mentioned pleat, and she asks, 'What've I found here?' _

_I turn to her, my smile warming a hint at the curiosity in her face as I say, __'That would be my left ear.'_

_'No kidding..' she exclaims, seeking her find again, leaning a little and guiding my head around to the side so that she might see. When next she speaks, her voice is purposefully soft, respectful of her proximity to the place in question. 'It's tiny..' she observes, the pad of her thumb tracing over the very arch of my frill - the area just above my ear, '..and really well protected by this here..'_

_Again, as I have with increasing frequency when sharing her company, I smile. 'Nature is wise, yes?'_

_Her touch changes slightly, from curious and respectful to almost reverent. 'I'll say..' she says. 'I'll say..' -_

As the remembered warmth of his mate's touch upon his frill faded, Thane found himself settled on the edge of their bed, his gaze fixed on the area in which the scene that had just played out behind his eyes had occurred. For a fleeting moment, the remnants of the memory overlapped reality, the Omni-tool and their mugs visible to him before they properly dispersed and were replaced by..

..by a..

..

_What on all of Kahje_..

He blinked, focussing on what he now saw; on the conical lid and deep base of what appeared to be a _sand heater_. Rising from his perch, he approached the object, crouching beside the table it sat upon and reaching for it with careful hands. As he took in its sight - matte black and finely crafted - and the sight of the assorted items around it - ladles and pots of what he recognised as sand, a rolled, woven bathing mat and brushes of at least four kinds - a new memory came..

- _'..I can think of nothing I desire more' I say, 'than locking the door behind me.. ..taking a long bath..'_

_'A Drellish one?' she asks, adding, 'With warm sand and a hot cloth?'_

_Her insight humbles me as much as it surprises me. 'That very kind' I say. -_

..and with its passing, as the import of his find became clear to him, he gave an exclamation that to human ears would have sounded like a deep cough, but to Drellish ones was his recently regained training-muted tell for shocked joy.

"That dear, dear woman.." he breathed, shaking his head as he explored the panoply before him; touching and testing each piece - from the bristles on the brushes, to the quality and thickness of the bathing mat, to the fineness of each type of sand and the depth of the sand heater's base. Only once his curiosity was satisfied did he sit back on his heels, agog.

Quite suddenly and without preamble, he was unsure of what he should do with himself.

As he saw it, he had three options. First, he could leave the treasures he had come upon alone and make sure, when she returned, that his Siha enjoyed them _with_ him. This course's greatest appeal was that it would directly involve her, but waiting for her return would also delay the opportunity he now had to rid himself of eight months of accumulated 'hospital' scent, and to relieve a little of the stress that went along with his protracted illness and hospitalisation.

It wouldn't work miracles, certainly - there is only so much a hot bath can do for a gentleman - but it would be a wonderful, decadent start.

Option two on the other hand didn't concern the bathing materials. Option two was suggested by that small part of him that was frankly exhausted, both by the events of the day and by, again, his illness and his slow, challenging, still progressing recovery; that part of him that wanted on an instinctual level to curl up in a place he felt safe and simply _sleep_. For that purpose, the blanket on the bed was ready and waiting..indeed it frankly _called_ to him..but retiring at..

He glanced towards the clock on the bedside table..

..[16:56]..

..so early an hour felt to him like a waste of the perfectly good time he now had to enjoy his day with, and that brought him to option three.

After neatening the room up to his exacting standards, he could have his bath, taking his time and really savouring the experience, and then, if his Siha did not return in time to potentially assist him with that, he could retire to bed for a doze and a relax in preparation for her return.

..

Looking between blanket and bathing materials, Thane gave a low, depthful hum-buzz of contentment at his situation.

Truly, the choice was foregone.

Why would a man pick between luxuries when he was at liberty to have _both_?

* * *

><p>Another full hour would pass before Commander Shepard, tentative plans in hand, bid goodbye to her mother and closed the link to the Orizaba. Stepping away from the console, she rubbed her eyes and groaned deeply. They had covered everything from possible tactics in combat situations to potential allies and steadfast foes; from the threat posed by Cerberus to the pros and cons of directly engaging Reapers with small ground teams and a lot of heavy, preferably ship-borne, artillery.<p>

Mentally exhausted didn't even begin to cover what she felt, and that was without taking account of the concept..the thought..the postulation that the Admiral had left her to stew over.

"What've we got that they don't, Commander?" she'd asked as they wound up.

A thousand possibilities ran through her mind in a blink, but none were worthy of bringing up in serious conversation. "Not a clue Ma'm. What've we got that they don't?"

The Admiral leant forward slightly as she spoke, impressing the gravity of her message with that muted three inch movement. "Hearts and minds" she said.

Shepard blinked. "What good does that-" she tried, but her mother was faster.

"You listen to me. That stunt you pulled through the Omega 4? Don't look so shocked, I'd have to be deaf and blind not to catch wind of that through the grapevine, and even then I'd likely not have missed it. Don't forget who I am to you." She waved off the Commander's frown and went on. "Without hearts and minds, that stunt would've been suicide. God himself told me that. Without having the trust of the people you took with you, you would've lost them _all_. The way I hear it..how many did you lose?"

The question was rhetorical, but Shepard answered regardless and with no small hint of private personal pride. "None, Ma'm."

"Precisely. Now I'm not saying that we'll win the day with hearts and minds alone. I've been in the military longer than you've been alive and I damn well know better. **But**." She punctuated the word with a sharp point, jabbing a finger towards the Commander. "It's that kind of strength that's needed now, so as you're doing your shopping and ticking off items on the list you've got, keep that in mind. We, us, **_you_**, have the chance to bring the galaxy together to face the biggest threat it's ever going to. God's got the right idea, but he's so wound up with the ornament that he's like a skipped stone."

"Just skimming the surface.." Shepard put in, nodding slowly. It was nothing like an indictment against Admiral Hackett to point out that he was stretched so thin and bent over so far backwards trying to get the Crucible built that his focus was on doing just that, not on the intricacies of galactic unity or on reaching for the hearts and minds of the peoples he wanted to help in getting the job done. For that, she mused as she rubbed at her temples in the here and now, he had her..and perhaps her mother too, and others..if only she could find them and coordinate them and..

and..

..

She glanced at her Omni-tool's chronometer.

..[17:58]..

.._Ugh_..

And now it was time for her to stop thinking about all that, file the data she'd collected and thoughts she had away for later, and hustle down to Medbay to see to Chakwas before finally.._finally_..heading upstairs and welcoming Thane home in the most full and proper manner possible. She was damn sure, unless the doctors had abducted the poor Drell and her being called down was some kind of ransoming off of the prisoner-patient-crewperson thing, that he'd have made it back by now, and she knew with just as much certainty that there was nowhere on Earth or Heaven that she'd rather be right this second than buried in his embrace.

Deactivating the protective shields she'd erected at the beginning of her meeting, she trudged back through the War Room, past a pensive, tense looking Primarch Victus and on into the CIC.

The quicker she got her last and final chore of the day done, the quicker she could get home and show Thane the utter and complete extent to which she loved him.

* * *

><p>AN two, the sequel: The..issue Liara and Shepard have in this story is inspired by in-game ME2 canon. I'm not using it in the same way it's presented in game, but it struck such a chord with me that I couldn't not include it. All will become clear in time. For now, I do hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Many thanks for reading.

_L.G_

And now!

**_Coming in the next chapter_**

Advice is given.

A deeply uncomfortable topic is broached..respectfully.

And Shepard receives a gift that at first seems trivial but is, in actuality, _everything_.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.

A/N: Welcome to chapter 11 all! Especial thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I swear every one of the comments made my day. I'm so pleased the story is still being enjoyed. Just a very quick note about this chapter: there is a mention of a particular side effect of Keprals that Thane alludes to in ME3 included within. It's never stated outright in-game, but I read between lines, took it and ran with it.

Hope you enjoy, and thanks again for reading and reviewing.

Happy Merry Yuletide greetings and Christmas!

_L.G_

* * *

><p><span>99 Red<span>

_**Proof positive of Thane's return to health, the realisation, after a mild spate of panic, that the old must make way for the new, and a gift round off Shepard's day**_

That hollow sound?

The one you get when you bat a balloon with your hand?

That was the noise that greeted Shepard when she strode through the Medical Bay's doors.

Not instantly of course. It took a moment for Chakwas, who had been settled at her terminal in full-on work mode when first she arrived, to realise she had a guest upon whom she could sick her recently acquired rubbery minion. Once she was aware though, and had greeted her with a gleeful, "Ah Shepard, you've made it down!" it only took one more word.."Catch!" and two gracile movements..one to collect said minion and the second to give it a push with her hands..for it to be sailing across the room towards her slightly bemused but otherwise smiling CO.

Despite how tired she felt, and how much she really didn't want to have had to come down, she had to admit to having received far worse welcomes in her time.

"What's this?" she chuckled, catching the balloon in both hands and giving she who'd lobbed it over to her a cock-eyed grin. It was a pretty thing - all round and blue and sparkly - and not at all what she'd thought to expect upon receiving the doctor's missive earlier. "Is it party time or something, Doc?"

"It should be, I'll tell you that right this moment" Karin beamed, waving her over. "Come here now. I want to show you something."

Curious, the Commander did as she was told, tucking her new friend under her arm and taking in the scene as she came near. Settled at her workstation as she was, the good doctor was veritably surrounded by the tools of her trade. She'd taken her Omni-tool off at some point and had it opened out for work on the table to her left, while a small clutch of notepads was piled up on her right. The pen in her right hand was being used to make the occasional notation about whatever it was she had open on her terminal's screen, and judging by the number of crinkled paper pages that littered the immediate vicinity Shepard guessed that she'd been occupied with doing so for some time. Stopping behind her right shoulder, she peeped around for a better look at what had her so caught.

There was writing..and numbers..and..a click of the haptic interface brought up a picture..one of those 3D modelled renderings so popular now in hospitals and medical centres.

"Look" Karin said, glancing around at her guest and smiling beatifically. "Aren't they wonderful?"

Shepard leant forward, her brows lowering with concentration as she tried to wrap her mind around what she was looking at. She knew what the rendering was of, certainly..it was a pair of lungs..a markedly _healthy_ pair of lungs in fact..neither the left nor right having even a spot of clouding or darkness in it.

What the sight _meant_ though..

That boggled her.

"Are those.._Thane's_?" she managed, knowing the answer but recalling too, too vividly the last time she saw a scan of her beau's lungs to stop herself from needing confirmation. Back then they had been in a horrific state, the scan showing the full and complete extent of the damage Keprals had caused.

_But now_..

"Yes" the doctor beamed, tamping down on the urge to giggle gleefully while she manipulated the display to show off the scan's entirety. As she and Shepard watched, the rendering spun in a slow circle, important areas being highlighted and then dimming again as it cycled round. "This was taken a couple of hours ago while he was down here with Doctor Pyral and I. I sent you the message asking you to come down right after Ira left for Huerta." She paused, pulling in a breath as she gazed at the screen before enthusing, "Oh, just _look_ at them Shepard."

"I am.." the Commander breathed, too rapt to do anything but.

_Now they look_..

Taking up her pen by its nib, Karin pointed to distinct areas on the still slowly rotating scan, naming them as she went. "Superior right lobe..superior left lobe..middle right lobe..and the middle left..and the inferior left and right lobes..they're perfect. They're _clear_."

_Clear_..

The word hit her like a bolt from the blue.

She'd known, of course, that her beau was well..cured even..that he wasn't dying. He'd told her. She'd _known_..but this..this was corroboration. This was proof her eyes could focus on..that was tangible..see-able..documented.._medical_..

And best of all?

There was more coming.

With four practiced clicks the image on the screen changed; a lengthy, obviously detailed table replacing the equally detailed scan. "I want you to see these figures as well" Karin said, excitement obvious in her tone, "as proof of how far he's come." Using her pen again, she pointed to the number she wanted to start with. "This reading was taken from Sere Krios with an Oximeter about a week before you left the Normandy."

Shepard frowned, caught between elation at having heard the words, 'perfect' and, 'clear' in connection to her mate's lungs and confusion at the new word. Medicine and its trappings had never been and would never be her strong suit. "An Oxi- what now?" she asked, leaning forward a little more to better her view as the doctor glanced back at her to answer.

"A device that measures oxygen saturation in the blood. The finger clip I occasionally force you to wear during your physicals."

"Oh! Oh, oh. With you now. So that was the percentage of oxygen in his blood.." She read the number out.."83%"..and for a moment..just one..just quickly..cast her mind back to the point in time at which that reading occurred. Thane had been more or less Medbay bound then, weak and pale and gasping and..

..and..

"I remember what that number looks like" she said gravely, her recollections sending her cold despite the fact that she knew what she had recalled was long over with. She didn't need to be told that anything below a reading of around 90% was considered to be at best 'worrying' for her to know how truly bad the news at the table's top end was. Following the column down and the readings forward in time, there seemed to be little reprieve. "And they go _down_..80%..78%.._Jesus_.."

"Until" Karin put in, hoping to save the Commander from distress she had no intention of causing her. She scrolled quickly, looking for and finding the place she wanted. "..Here..84%. That one was taken five hours after his operation. He was still critical, but better. Slowly beginning to improve. Look at the ones after it. 85%..87%.."

"89.." Shepard read, skipping ahead a few. "90..and that one was taken.."

"Six months ago."

"Ok.." She squinted at the screen as the doctor kept scrolling. "They're still rising..91..93..What's the most recent one you've got?"

Karin smiled, clicking a couple of buttons to bring up the requested data.

"..98%.." Shepard read, her voice softening. "That's..pretty much normal, right?"

"Yes. Between 98 and 100% is normal. Healthy."

"How old's that one?"

There was a pregnant pause..and then, "We took it when we did the scan, so..two hours. Perhaps a little more."

The words skipped across the Commander's surface at first..like a stone does across water..but after a moment, like the stone, they began to sink in; the words..the scan being clear.._everything_ began to sink in, and as it did she let out a slow breath. Relief made her throat tighten and her eyes sting, and she closed them and lowered her head, her shoulders slumping slightly for the brief, brief moment she allowed herself to wallow in what she was feeling. In the weightiness of what she had just witnessed and what it meant for her little world.

Thane was safe.

He was in the clear.

Really, honestly, _medically_ in the clear.

It felt impossible..and there was a part of her that fought it..that tried to make her question and doubt, if only to protect herself from future agony if everything went belly-up..but there was proof on screen that even her jaded subconscious found hard to argue against.

Beside her, Karin too huffed out a breath. When she spoke, her words were as soft as her CO's had been. "You see why I called him a miracle, Ma'm?"

Opening her eyes, the Commander sat a hand upon her friend's shoulder. "..I truly do.." she murmured, giving it a companionable, thankful squeeze when the doctor reached around and laid a hand over hers. It took a couple of minutes for either woman to gather enough wherewithal to make a go of proper conversation after that, but when they did it was Shepard who spoke first. "Was there anything else you wanted to share, Doc?" she asked, newly keen to find Thane and experience the miracle that was him in person. "Only I've got a thing to get to and-"

Karin hummed mirthfully, raising her brows a knowing hint as she looked around at her. "A _thing_, hm? Yes, he left a good while back now. I assume he's either hot-footed it to the Life Support plant or gone to the Loft. One of the two."

Had she known her less well, Shepard would have bristled at the sheer amount of familiarity in the woman's tone. Things being as they were though she simply scoffed, quipping, "So he'll be wondering where I've got to then.." as she set off for the door, "and if there's nothing else.."

"There is actually" Karin said, holding up a hand to stop her brewing retreat before it really got started. She gestured then to the nearest free seat. "Pull that up, won't you? This won't take long, but you may as well be comfortable."

Swallowing back a disappointed huff, the Commander dragged the nearest rubber-footed chair up on her friend's right. As she settled in to listen, the balloon in her lap, Karin swivelled around in her chair to properly face her and ran through the little mental list of key topics she wanted to go over before she released the woman back into the wild. She'd known, having quietly asked EDI before she'd sent her note, that she hadn't seen Thane since he'd left the Medical Bay..something about an important meeting and utmost privacy keeping her from him..and wanted to take the opportunity to catch up with her in the interim - to get a feeling for her understanding of his present condition, to share an idea or two she'd had about helping it continue to improve, and to answer any questions or concerns she might have as best she could.

She knew though that, in broaching these topics, she would have to tread gently. From what little she'd seen of the Commander since the news of Thane's recovery broke, she knew that she was finding digesting said news challenging - that actually believing it and letting go of the horror of watching him decline was hard for her.

Her reaction to seeing the Keprals-specific edition of Laksha during their last meeting was proof enough of that.

It was for that reason..that and simple, pure, honest elation..that she'd shared the scan and the table with her, and why, with genuine concern and almost maternal affection for this woman whose heart she'd watched break at Thane's bedside, she had to ask, "How're you feeling?" before going any further with her plan to explore and inform.

Shepard's answer was more or less reflexive; a reaction to how stifled she felt at being strong-armed into staying where she was, gentled fractionally by her knowledge that her counterpart meant well and was watching after her welfare. "A minute ago, elated. Elated and a little bit scared that all this will evaporate and I'll wake up in Huerta's chapel of rest with nothing but Thane's coat to remember him by." She paused for a beat, letting how serious she was in saying that sink in before adding, "Now?..Now..honestly..I'm tired. Tired and verging on impatient and needing of some serious down-time. It's been a long day."

"I know it has, and I'm sorry to keep you Ma'm" Karin said apologetically, wincing at her worst case scenario. "If it helps to hear it said at all, this.." she gestured first between them and then to the computer screen, indicating the situation at hand and all of the evidenced progress that led up to it, "won't evaporate. You've got Thane here. He's alive, and he's getting better by the day."

Much as she had moments earlier when relief knocked a breath from her, Shepard lowered her head at her friend's words. This time though, she maintained eye contact and favoured her with a grateful smile. For all she knew everything she'd said to be the truth of things..hearing it said by _her_, by her mate's _doctor_..God alive did it help settle her mind. "Thank you" she said, sincerity conveyed in her tone, her expression, and by the reserved but meaningful squeeze of her fingers to the woman's gloved wrist. "That.._means_. I need to hear it sometimes."

Karin nodded. "I know..and I know as well that you want to get back to him now. I'd feel exactly the same in your shoes Ma'm, but I think it would be wise for us to take a minute to touch base about his condition and how we might help it improve." She took a breath's pause, then segued into the first of the topics she hoped to cover with as much professionally gentle aplomb as possible. "Well as he is, he isn't at his best yet, and since you were close to him long before I saw him regularly you likely know better than I do the toll his illness took on him."

"I.." Shepard tensed, her expression blackening as the mention of 'tolls' and 'illness' set her teeth on edge.

_This_..this was what she'd expected upon receiving the doctor's missive.

"Yeah.." she muttered, "I know a bit about that."

Of course she knew.

Like the doc said..she'd lived it.

She remembered plain as day the turmoil - at first hidden as it was by a cloak of what she could only call resignation - that slowly losing piece after piece of himself to his illness had caused her mate, and having spoken to him today she realised that that losing..that slow process of dying away both physically and otherwise..had begun years before she'd known him.

The ability to take a full breath was the first thing to go.

Then, as a consequence of that, went the voice; the deep rumbles and hum-buzzes she had only just found out even existed had been stolen long ago - likely when Kolyat was still too young to attend whatever the Drellish equivalent of high school was.

And then, much later and as the illness progressed still further, went intimacy - the ability, stolen by crippling fatigue and the body's rationing of oxygenated blood to those places needed to ensure _survival_, to make love in the fullest possible manner. She'd been present for this one; for this most personal of personal thefts. Chakwas herself had warned her of it and numerous others, her research into Keprals lending her a depthful insight into the condition's likely trajectory, and although she'd shoved it to the back of her mind when first it had been mentioned..it had come to be nonetheless. It had come and she'd had to sit and endure hearing her beloved mate apologise to her because in his mind, by succumbing to this particularly cruel side effect of his disease, his body had failed not only him but _them_.

'I will not be again as I once was' he'd said, unable to look at her even as his hands clutched hers and his breaths, through stress and sickness, came as ragged gasps. The loathing and abject frustration in his voice had shaken her to the core. 'What _more_ can this damn disease _take_? How can it be that my body now finds _loving you_ so strenuous that-'

She'd hushed him, speaking his name and tugging on his hands; unwilling to sit by as the mixture of shame, fear and anger that was emanating from him began to truly take hold. What he'd said and what he meant were both the same and different. He was..indeed, they were..mortified by the loss of the well-loved intimacy they were so used to and so revelled in sharing. They were passionate, the pair of them, and had gloried in every depth of it; be it the feeling of Wholeness they shared when they were together, the touch of their fingers across a table, or the rapture of that most intimate physical connection and the ardent press of hips to hips in the heights of passion.

And then..within the space of a few days..a part of that was gone.

But it was more than that.

His anguish was directed not only at the hated loss of sexual intimacy, but at the simple, irrevocable truth that came with that loss: his condition was worsening quickly. It was that knowledge..that _fact_..that he had been most concerned with..most frightened of..as he lamented the situation, and against that, back then, there was no defence for either of them - even with Mordin working away in the lab on what would turn out to be their salvation. Thus, knowing she couldn't take away the pain and fear that feeling death's breath on his neck brought, she'd turned her mind to soothing the part of his discomfort that she had a chance to. Against Keprals she felt powerless, but in terms of intimacy and their new and unwanted lack of certain important aspects of it?

She could fight for him.

For _them_.

'Your body doesn't need to be in top working order for you to love me' she'd soothed, using the word 'love' as a verb, as he had, but implying with its use, again, as he had, the emotion that the act of making love conveyed.

Thane had almost despaired, rasping, 'But Siha..', but she was faster, shaking her head and reaching with both hands to cradle his so that he wouldn't turn from her. When next she spoke, her voice was as gentle as she could make it. 'I can feel the affection we share when we make love with or without the act itself. I see it in your eyes. It's in your voice too, and in your hands when you hold me.' She'd caressed each of the ridges that rose and fell upon his head then, pouring the affection she spoke of into the touch before moving to cup his jaw as she asked, 'Can you feel it in mine?'

Breathlessness and emotion made his reply thin, weak. '..Yes..'

Her own was much stronger, the conviction behind her words giving it force. 'That won't change now' she'd assured him, needing to reaffirm, even though he hadn't questioned it, that her affection for him wouldn't dim as his health failed. 'It won't stop.' As she spoke her throat had tightened, her composure slipping, but she'd fought on, forcing herself to finish; to hold it together for his sake, less her own. 'Relax Thane..relax..and breathe..and _live_. _Hang on_. Mordin's close. Help's coming soon. Just _live_.'

That conversation had occurred about a month prior to her having to leave the Normandy for Earth, and still..even after seeing the evidence of her beau's return to health when she first came in..thinking back on it now made her heart pound and her hands shake. It wasn't only Thane that the experience had scarred. She knew that for a fact, though he never would. Not to its fullest extent at least. She was too practiced at coping with and keeping how she suffered from him for that to occur.

Steeling herself and forcing the memory away, she refocused on Karin as she asked, "And about his condition now? Have you spoken to him about it at all?"

It took effort for her not to snap, unsettled as she was by her recollections, but she managed it. "I'm sure I don't know any more than you do about that, Doc. I know how well he looks on screen.." she gestured to the monitor and the table flickering away on it, "and how well he looks in person..but we haven't really sat and talked about how he's getting on in the 'getting back to the way things were' stakes..Although.." She paused a moment, a thought coming to her. "He told me that he's getting his range back. His voice. That being so ill for so long had wrecked it, but that it's coming back. He showed me some low notes too..ones that sort of..buzzed and yet didn't quite. It's hard to describe. I could feel them but couldn't hear them and..you're nodding. Did he tell you about it too?"

Karin smiled easily. "He did, yes. I got much the same précis from him as you just gave, and have done a little research of my own while looking into vocal exercises he could do to help with that. You remember coming across those when we last talked? They boggled us both."

"Do I" Shepard said, memories of charts and tables in languages entirely alien to her coming back at the very mention of the phrase. Neither she nor the good doctor had been able to figure out which way up the damn things went, never mind distil from them what a 'vocal exercise' entailed. "You've figured it out then?"

"In part at least" she conceded, her smile becoming a slightly sheepish grin. "The charts are still beyond me, but otherwise my curiosity led me on quite the pedagogic trip. As far as I understand it..and I'll have to start from the beginning here to keep my thoughts in or-"

"Doc" the Commander cut in, "sorry to butt in like this but.."

Chakwas paused, then asked kindly, "Too much info after too long a day?"

Shepard nodded.

"Perhaps another time then" she said, adding when her counterpart gave a tired though thankful huff, "For now, I'll keep on point. Drellish vocal exercises are quite similar to those that professional singers use to exercise their vocal chords, but they go beyond the chords" she gestured to her throat, then traced a line down along her breastbone, "and into the chest..to the lungs..and the muscles surrounding them. Ever you catch Thane taking deep breaths and releasing them in a controlled way, listen hard. You might hear him as he goes through the scales."

"He does that?" Shepard asked, a soft though obviously pleased beat of laughter escaping her at the thought.

"As to that particular exercise, I'm unsure" she admitted, "but I know for a fact that he's been working on his range for a while." She gestured then to the balloon resting comfortably in her companion's lap. "What do you think that is?"

"Er.." It took her a moment, her mind spent for implications after her chat with her mother, but soon the credit dropped. "You're serious?" she enthused, gathering it up and turning it appraisingly in her hands. "He used..but how is _this_ range practice?"

Again, Karin smiled. "It's wonderful exercise for the lungs you know, blowing those up" she said, watching realisation crash through the Commander's expression.

"You mean he.." A mental jump was made then, and a question fell out without her meaning it to. "With how many breaths?"

"Three."

The glee that single word sent through Shepard brought her a smile so wide it made her jaw ache. "That's _fantastic_."

Karin nodded her agreement. "It really is. I've been looking further than vocal exercises though Ma'm, hoping to find therapies or courses of rehabilitation over and above the mandated ones he's used to, and I've come up with something I think you might like."

"Oh?" she asked, cocking a suddenly jestful brow as she squirreled her blue and sparkly friend back into her lap. "Do I need to go shopping again?"

The doctor snuffled. "No, I was thinking more practically this time. About a way _you_ might be able to help him on his way to full health. You personally, not your credit chit."

If second-guessing had a face, it would have been Shepard's then. "I don't.." she spluttered, her words stilted and unsure. It wasn't that she was averse to the idea exactly; she just knew what her strengths were, and 'therapy' and 'rehabilitation' really weren't them. "..Now wait a second here. I'm not even the least bit qualified to-..I mean..What can _I_ do for him?"

Sitting back in her chair, Karin smiled. "You'd be surprised, dear. Do you remember when you first came onboard the SR-2? When you came to see me about the surgical scars on your face?"

Shepard, still leery, gave a nod. "Sure."

"What did I tell you about them, after I'd done a little research?"

She searched her memory. "..You sent me a message talking about how positive emotions would promote healing because they wouldn't make my cybernetics act up. That the scars would heal by themselves if I didn't do too much that'd irritate them."

"That I did, and that philosophy, mind over matter, holds true for non-cybernetically enhanced individuals too. Particularly ones who have recently gone through a life-changing..life-saving..medical procedure."

"So.." she brooked, beginning to catch her counterpart's drift, "you think that would work with Thane? Calm thoughts? Avoiding conflict? You think it'd help him recover more quickly?"

Again, Karin nodded. "There's no doubt in my mind. Huerta Memorial is a wonderful place, don't get me wrong, but it's still an institution. A place that wasn't his to truly settle in, and certainly not one he _wanted_ to settle in either. It's a place for the sick, he told me today, and he..you should have seen his face as he said this." She grinned helplessly, doing her best to mimic the way Thane had spoken the words. "He said..'I am _not_ sick'.. with this lovely little self-satisfied grin."

Despite her still brewing doubts about how helpful she could be, Shepard's smile was as wide as her friend's. "Damn right he's not" she enthused, knowing from memory the warm tone of voice her beau would have spoken those words in. Curious then, she asked, "How do I help with the positive attitude thing though? I know just being around will likely do something for it. God knows he does wonders for my calm and I know that feeling's mutual..but..you mentioned having an idea.."

"I did and do" the doctor confirmed. "I think we should consider activities that could benefit him in more than one way. By that I mean..say..a kind of physical activity that would also be calming to him. I know he practices an exercise much like yoga, and that's a wonderful start-"

"I couldn't do that with him though" she cut in. "I don't bend well. I don't _dance_ either, so don't get any ideas about suggesting that."

Karin chuckled. "I wouldn't dream of it Ma'm. I was actually going to suggest massage."

"Mas-.."

That stopped her.

She blinked, images supplied by her suddenly fertile imagination filling her mind; images of her hands..oil-slicked..moving over her mate's body..his chest..his flanks..his thighs..tracing the almost black stripes that striated his back as he rumbled pleasurably..appreciating his muscles as they flexed..rippling beneath his scales.

In the midst of this sensual barrage, sound happened without her mind behind it. "Oh..I..er.."

.. _Lord_..

And again. "I.."

.._Come on Shepard..sense please_..

"I don't know the first thing about anything like that" she finally managed. "I wouldn't want to do something wrong and end up hurting him."

_Great save! And true at that.._

"I'm a step ahead of you there" the doctor grinned, opening and leaning into one of the numerous draws beneath her desk. She produced a markedly familiar glossy publication and pitched it underarm to the Commander. "I took the liberty of making a purchase myself today."

"Laksha again?" Shepard chuffed, checking the magazine's front to make sure that the offensive purple bands that marked the 'Keprals Special Edition' weren't present before rifling through the pages to find its contents list; curious to see if one of the pair of Drellish ladies she'd had the pleasure of meeting today had authored her usual column. Fourth from the bottom, she found what she was looking for..'Romance advice with Kehksi'..page 126..and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning like a loon.

"Laksha again" Karin confirmed. "I've been perusing the on-line version of this issue, but wanted a hard copy so you could take it away with you. It's amazing how quickly light packages are dispatched these days. I only ordered it this morning." She leant forward again as her counterpart slowly leafed through the pages, looking out for the section she wanted to share. "There's an entire piece in here about massage and its numerous health benefits. The one I'm most keen on for Thane, besides the obvious relaxation and personal time it would allow you both to share, is circulation. Since his illness played hell with his circulatory system, forcing his body to run on almost no oxygen and causing damage through that lack, anything that helps it do its job would work wonders for him."

Mid page-turn the Commander stopped, something about the way those words came out catching her attention. She wasn't quite sure what it was about them, but it paused her; paused her until Karin, who had both taken over the page turning and found the section she'd been seeking, began outlining what she knew about Drellish massage techniques, references to the pages before them and all. When that started, her memory looped back on her and some very pertinent mental puzzle pieces..

..

_Very personal thefts.._

_'Getting back to the way things were'.._

_The side effects of Thane being horrifically ill.._

_Being robbed of intimacies we were long used to sharing.._

_Massage to promote circulation, healing and give us 'personal time'.._

..

..pieces that she hadn't even realised were rattling around in her head..

..

_Thefts.._

_Circulation.._

_.._

..fell gently..

_.._

_Side effects.._

_'Personal time..'_

_'Getting back to the way-'_

_.._

..into place.

..

_Oh.._

..

And that..

_OHH_..

That coming together..

_Oh shit.._

That did more than pause her.

THAT did the mental equivalent of slamming her into a brick wall.

It didn't come from anything Karin said, or even overtly implied. It wasn't a sordid thing, and it certainly wasn't something she was in the least bit ashamed of acknowledging in her own mind. But the picture those puzzle pieces formed..

..of the assumed rectification of a very, VERY personal theft..a very _intimate_ personal theft..and the possibility, thanks to the remaining side effects of years upon years of illness, of said theft not having been rectified yet..

..of the possibility that her mate's body might not, as yet, be 'in top working order' as she'd once delicately put it..

..stopped her dead in her tracks.

All of a sudden she realised that she hadn't even thought..hadn't even _considered.._that such might be the case. She'd taken his wellness as a given, and hadn't imposed limits on how far it went or how much of him it encompassed. Now that she was considering it though, she knew two things with absolute clarity.

First and most importantly, if his body was as yet still healing up in terms of its more intimate capacities, that was completely, unequivocally and irrevocably fine with her. The lack of sexual intimacy his illness had caused was something they'd dealt with and got through together, and in some ways..well..not _some_..in _one _way..it had even had a positive side. She'd learned something about expressing love for another that she hadn't known with such clarity before.

One needn't be sexually intimate to make love with one's mate.

Activities like sharing a fine meal..drinking tea together..cupping their hands about each other's and talking into the wee hours..sharing memories..giving soft kisses in places that would not stifle either's breathing..the cheeks..over the eyes..the fingers..the throat..cuddling up together within their blanket-nest and watching a vid, or simply dozing in each other's arms; all of these things had become part of what it was for them to make love..to express love for one another when more intimate methods were off the table..and all had come to mind as she'd considered the potential itinerary for their evening over the week during which they'd been parted.

She had not though, despite her enjoyment of such things, restricted her wonderings to less physically intimate activities. In her mind, then, there had been no reason to. Thane was well, and as polite as he was..as cultured as he was..he was as much a creature of passion as she..and she _burned_ for him. This being her truth, and assumedly his also, their bed-mediated-reacquaintance would inevitably be made as their evening progressed, and if she had her way it would be done so thoroughly..deeply..and, dare she hope for the remaining three days of their shore leave allotment.._often_.

There would be kisses..kisses depthful enough and insistent enough to wipe from even _his_ memory the horrors of the past eight months..Caresses too..of her skin by his fingers and of his scales, his pleats, by hers..the slow, waking reacquaintance of each body to the other..And after that..they would make the most passionate, most needful love to one another in whatever ways their bodies called for.

..

Or so she'd thought.

Now, with doubt cast, her second 'knowing' came to the fore and pointed out to her that not only had she assumed that Thane _would _be able to do with her those decadently intimate things she'd imagined, but that she hadn't the foggiest idea how to approach their evening now that there was a possibility that he wasn't. The logical resolution to this conundrum, that she would have settled on instinctively had she been less exhausted, was, in that moment, lost to her, and _that_..that gaping hole in her habitually duck's-arse-tight grasp of the situation..didn't do her calm one bit of good.

_What do I do now_? she fretted, fingers tugging anxiously at her balloon's tightly knotted end. _This whole evening is meant to be for Thane..and if I don't know how to pitch my part in it..be it calm and restful or really not..I could end up in real trouble. I have done before. I've gone in at the wrong level..made advances before I knew his body wasn't up to it..and it stressed us both to hell and back._

_I can't have that __**now**__._

Mid mental-diatribe she glanced at Karin, who was still happily informing her about the various benefits that massage would have for her mate's wellbeing. Considering her, she frowned faintly.

_Could I ask.._?

_.._

_.._

_No._

_It's none of my business to go asking her that._

_Even if Thane brought it up with her earlier, she wouldn't tell me what'd been said. The circumstances were different when she told me about it in the past. She warned me about it being a possibility then. She didn't tell me about it in retrospect or discuss anything Thane had said about it.._

_.._

_How in the blue hell am I gonn-_

A careful, respectful touch to her wrist and a word then. "Commander?"

Blinking herself out of her slightly panicked introspection, she looked first down at her wrist, then at the doctor. At the mixture of curiosity and concern on the woman's face, she asked, "Yeah?" with an enthusiasm that wasn't in the least bit natural.

"What do you think?"

Shepard balked.

_Think?_

_Me?_

_.._

_..Oh hell_..

"I..er.." She frowned slightly..tried to recall what her counterpart had been saying to her..then winced apologetically when she couldn't. "I didn't catch the question. Say again?"

Karin gave a slight smile, the expression unoffended and understanding. "I thought I'd lost you there. Are you all right? You look a little pale."

Shepard almost laughed out loud. For a moment, a brief, struggling moment, her jaw worked silently as she fought words to the fore. Words that might offer an explanation. Or an apology. Or _anything_. In the end though she huffed tiredly, slipping the magazine beneath her balloon and scrubbing at her eyes with her fingers. Once all that was done, she levelled at her counterpart an exhausted gaze and gestured vaguely to her right temple. "Sorry..I was just..thinking and..and.." She shook her head. ".._Brain vomit_."

"Brain vomit?" the doctor prodded, chortling softly. "Is that a technical term?"

A glare.

It took effort, but she sobered, gathering her professionalism about herself lest she risk irking the obviously drained woman further. "Your mind was running away with you, hm?" she asked, though the question didn't need an answer. Shepard's expression made the truth of things as plain as day. "That's nothing to apologise for Ma'm. With the time you've had of things recently and the stress you've been under, you're entitled to the occasional bout of..nausea, shall we say." Offering a sincerely empathetic smile she brooked, "Is there anything I could do to help? What was it that had you wandering?"

A word, "I.." escaped before the Commander's brain caught up with her mouth and cut her off, forcing her to think through what she was about to say; to weigh the pros and cons of responding in the affirmative to an offer of counsel that, moments previous, she' had refused to actively seek. In the end however, her need for certainty outweighed her discomfort. The doctor had laid the offer on the table. It's not like she could pass it up.

"I..remembered.." she began, her words made careful by her deep-seated appreciation for how personal the matter she was about to broach was, "with all this talk about making Thane better and helping with _circulation_ and getting his voice back and all..that his voice wasn't the only thing he lost to the disease." She gave her counterpart a pointed look then, unwilling to be any more overt than she had been. To use the words 'Keprals made him impotent'. They were coarse, harsh, painful to her and not something she had any intention of hearing said.

Luckily, Karin was right on the ball. The woman didn't even waver. "I recall, yes" she said, speaking with the kind of easy professionalism the Commander could, in this moment, only aspire to, "though had he brought that particular issue up with me during our consultation, I couldn't comment on it. I can tell you however, that he did not."

Shepard blinked, a flurry of thoughts, all disjointed and too quick to rightly pin down and express coherently, racing through her mind at the doctor's words. Questions..

_What does not telling her mean?_

_Yes?_

_No?_

_Is he ok?_

_Is he not ok?_

..all vied for place and attention, but none made it past her lips before Karin, attentive to both her discomfort and recurrent preoccupation, asked, "Would you like me to give you a quick run-through of possible issues that may arise as his recovery progresses? That might help put your mind at rest."

Her response was almost instant; a guarded nod and a quick, "Please."

The doctor returned the nod sagely, gathering her thoughts. She'd known as soon as she made the offer that her oath of doctor-patient confidentiality would keep from their discussion any medical business that Thane had brought to her, but surmised that speaking in hypotheticals about possible but uncertain future issues wouldn't qualify as a breach, provided she was careful to keep from-life examples of anything that the Drell had told his doctors about out of the discourse.

"The usual panoply may or may not apply" she began, keeping her choices from 'the usual' selection of post-operative issues as tailored to Thane's case as possible. "Fatigue is the most likely one, I'd wager, along with muscle weakness through the chest, shoulders and upper torso. The operation was a while ago now, but these things will take the time they'll take and everyone is different. He does enjoy pushing himself.." She smiled gently as the Commander managed a little grin. "And while I made him promise to take it easy, you might want to mind him to make sure he doesn't overdo it."

"I will" Shepard said, nodding gamely, her mind beginning to settle as her friend went on.

"Having opportunistic infections set in because of the immuno-suppressors he's taking is another possibility. I know the drugs are very specific, but we need to keep an open mind about these things so we can nip them in the bud."

An intent, _righteously_ protective question then. "You're on top of that, right?"

"I am, yes. He and I agreed on meeting daily so we can keep a bead on his condition day-to-day and log how he's progressing. I don't expect to find anything worrying, well as he is, but preparedness is king where advances in medicine are concerned and he is certainly part of one of those."

After a slight pause, the Commander nodded, a lick of tension she hadn't realised she'd been carrying regarding that particular issue..about how close an eye would be kept on her mate's well-being..easing away into nothing.

Daily meant that nothing could creep up and develop under their noses.

Daily meant she could be kept as up to date as confidentiality allowed her to be kept.

..

Daily meant..that she didn't have to _worry_ so damn much.

Favouring her friend with a slightly warmer smile, she prompted, "What else?"

Karin considered the question a moment. "The last potential physical issue I can think of off the top of my head is the possibility of cramps coming on because of fatigue-caused inactivity..though Thane is a generally active fellow now that he's back on his feet so I doubt that will become an issue. If it does, the remedy is quite simple."

"Oh?"

"Massage, Ma'm. To get the lactic acid out of his muscles."

The rather lovely mental image of her hands on her beau's body returning, Shepard huffed fondly. "I like your thinking."

"I thought you might" the doctor smiled. Now..as to other possible issues..I've never had a Drellish patient before, so I'm treading on unfamiliar ground here. Do you think that his having such perfect recollections of being so terribly sick might negatively impact his wellbeing? Emotionally perhaps? I'm ashamed to say that I don't know the man well enough to have seen past the polite mask he presents interpersonally, and by the time he was confined to the Medical Bay he was much too ill for me to worry about doing so."

"I don't know for sure myself, honestly" the Commander confided. "His memories do creep up on him at times..so ones about being poorly may well do.." She rubbed at her balloon thoughtfully for a beat before concluding, "If they have or will effect him, I'll be there."

Karin couldn't but smile at the conviction in the woman's voice. "I'm sure you will."

"I'll keep an eye on him" she added, nodding to herself, "See how things-" A thought leapt out at her then..a realisation and a conclusion, both born of those latter three words..but she pressed on and finished her sentence before acknowledging them. "See how things go. Play it by ear." As the doctor agreed and took up talking in prospective hypotheticals again, she remained outwardly attentive; outwardly focussed. Inside though, she was caught between the want to face-palm and that to verbally flay herself.

The former came from the reappearance, after her little moment of blind, exhaustion-driven mental flailing, of the logical, calm resolution to the 'I'm unsure if Thane's up to my more amorous overtures' matter.

She'd simply follow his lead.

This was obvious to her, as it would be to anyone after a few moments to calm the hell down and think about the situation rationally. The issue she'd made out of it simply _wasn't_ an issue at all, and if it hadn't been for the length of the day and the amount of emotional and mental baggage she'd accrued through the past few months, she'd have been even more appalled at herself for reacting to it the way she had than she already was.

And the latter..

The latter was caused by a realisation that she wasn't in the least bit comfortable with. It wasn't about Thane, or how well or not he was. It was about how and why she'd reacted the way she did to having uncertainty about his readiness for intimacies of a certain nature crop up out of the blue.

The how part was simple. She'd panicked.

The why though? That took serious work to admit to herself.

..

But work she did.

Admit it..she did.

..

..

It..panic..was her response to having what was, in fact, the most enduring of the coping mechanisms she'd developed to keep herself together while Thane was ailing - the habit of planning out and keeping as much control over situations involving him as possible so that she could either steer potential stressors away from him or take them on herself - uprooted by a sudden, glaring, entirely unplanned lack of intel. And that.. ..given the fact that Thane was now well and therefore wouldn't appreciate her micromanagement as he had when he was poorly.. ..just wasn't a tenable way for her to be.

By abject will alone, Shepard stopped herself from cursing aloud. Instead, she nodded along as Karin kept up her little impromptu lecture, took in what she needed, filtered out the rest, and forced herself to take the difficult yet necessary step of acknowledging the truth of her situation.

_This control..thing..I have..This need..It's a problem now, not the solution it used to be._

After that..just as difficult and just as needed..came an admission..and her resolve.

_Coping through my days won't cut it anymore. Not with Thane healthy and aboard the ship. Times have changed. I need to loosen my grip a little, and I'll start this evening. If stressful things come up, stressful things come up._

_We'll deal with them together._

_.._

_I can do that; together._

_.._

_I know I can._

And then..finally..as the doctor's instructions wound to a close and she was sent back into the wild..a little battered..a little wiser..and with a blue sparkly balloon and a glossy Drellish publication in tow..she let the smile she'd given her friend as she left fade away under the weight of her fatigue and did the only thing she could think to.

She sought he with whom she felt safest.

The only person that, after everything that'd come today, she really needed to be near.

..

"EDI?" she said, her voice as firm as ever but devoid of even a hint of the mirth she'd managed to affect for the doctor's benefit. She was too drained for that now; her composure, thanks to an over-long day and painfully fresh memories of trials and tribulations she desperately wanted to forget, too worn.

/Yes Shepard?/

"Where's Thane?"

/The Loft. He has been there for some time/

..

And she fled to him.

* * *

><p>AN - the update edition! I have, as returning readers may have noticed, made a few changes to this chapter since its release. Nothing major in terms of plot. Everything's as it was, it's just a lot more _concise_. Do tell me what you think guys! I can only improve as a writer if I'm pointed towards the things I need to work on :-) As of the last day of July there be a second round of amendments here thanks to the kind guidance of shadowchsr. I can't take on all of your advice, friend, but your remark on this chapter was apt and helpful. Very very many thanks.

_**And now!**_

_Coming in the next chapter_

Ami's fears are put to rest

The balloon's story is shared, to great acclaim

And wandering fingers encounter an operation's legacy


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Numerous and varied apologies for how late this chapter is. Life happened **A LOT **in the interim, but here it be! I hope you enjoy.

As ever, comments, reviews and so forth are loved and cherished.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>Welcome Home<span>

_**In which Shepard learns to share (a little), the balloon's story is told, and Mordin's gift causes consternation of an unforeseen kind**_

There once was and still is a saying that goes and went like this: 'Outside noisy, inside empty.' Shepard first learned of this phrase from Thane, who in turn had picked it up from some esoteric piece of literature and deployed it to counter her during one of their frequent discussions of combat tactics. It had come at her from the shadows, that phrase and Thane's use of it. When he'd said it she hadn't understood its relevance. Yes they'd been talking about stealth, and that implied the need for silence, but what was the reference to empty insides for?

It took her a full hour to find her answer, and when she did she had to laugh at how blind to social cues - even really sodding obvious ones - she was when it came to Drell. The reference hadn't been keyed into anything they'd been talking about at all. Thane had simply been observing with wry candour that she'd been _talking_ a lot more about a topic she knew very little about than she had been _listening_ to the life-trained assassin who had, in his own classically modest words, 'some experience with infiltration'.

The sneaky bastard had _sassed_ her, right to her face, and she hadn't even noticed.

This would not, and indeed did not, go un-returned.

Her retaliation had come that evening in the mess. Thane had settled across from her, as he often did in those days, his back to the partition between mess and walkway and a mug of tea before him to be enjoyed as she took her meal and chatted quietly with him. All was as normal for about ten easy minutes, the people around them coming and going as they pleased..and then..she struck. Reaching out beneath the table with a naked foot, she found a Drellish ankle and stroked..slowly..gently..her face entirely straight and her manner as engaged as ever with their conversation.

She didn't even blink.

Thane though? He'd given such a start..a muted though sharp jerk that, for him, was essentially the equivalent of her leaping up as if she'd been burned..and had moved his leg away before their eyes again met; hers dancing with suppressed laughter, his confused and off-put by the possibility of such a touch being given by someone other than the woman sat across from him. After a long moment of staring however, he read her eyes and watched her smile..and understood. Their conversation continued as if there had been no pause in it, and his ankle was returned to her toes.

Since then, there had been no talk of empty insides or noisy outsides between them. There had been more sassing, certainly, and more instances of toes being lent to an ankle in almost-but-not-quite-public places, but nothing of insides or outsides.

Until now at least.

In the here and now, over a year since that little moment and the remark that brought it on, said remark came back to the Commander as a bit of internal commentary on her situation as she stood in the elevator on her way up to her quarters. Truth be though, things were a bit muddled this time around. It was not the case now that she was all outside noisy with an empty mind.

She was_ inside noisy_ in an almost silent space.

The noise however was not of an unwelcome kind. It was not what it had been in the Doctor's office - all panic and no direction. It was instead a pep-talk; a pep-talk that had begun with her resolve as she'd left the Medical Bay and only become more vociferous when the elevator doors closed at her back. Again and again she reiterated to herself that her various methods of coping with the stress of the preceding year..be it the penchant she had for planning things out to the letter..the habit she'd made of hiding how hard she'd found dealing with the situation from Thane..or the endless other ways she'd found to deflect stress from him and onto herself to make things easier for him..were now superfluous. That he was healthy, and therefore no longer needed her to protect him in the ways she had done before.

This though, was easier thought than done.

She was sure from the off that simply knowing this on the evidence wouldn't change the habits of over a year. Disowning her need to keep her mate safe was something she simply couldn't do. It was too entrenched a thing to just _stop_. What she could do though, and what she was determined to do, was take baby-steps towards having a healthier approach to how she tackled such things. She could wean herself off of her high-alert status and find herself a less..hyper-sensitised plane of existence in comparison to the one she'd existed on for that God forsaken year. She could slow her mind down a spell, take in the scenery and learn again not to feel like her beau was on the fast track to dying and she on the fast track to losing him.

It would take time, certainly, but it could be done.

It _would_ be done.

..

It _had_ to be done.

And that wasn't all by a long way on the 'had to be done' list. Oh no. That was just the start; just the stuff that concerned her inner workings. The other and ultimately more important item her pep-talk touched on was that which had sent her into a tizzy in the first place – the question of her mate's receptiveness or lack thereof to romantic overtures of the sexual kind and how she'd go about dealing with her lack of intel on it.

Yes, naturally, she'd follow his lead, but she found upon reflection that doing that alone - waiting and watching and dissecting every subtle hint (or not so subtle hint) he gave - simply wouldn't cut it. Not only would it go against her naturally forthright nature, it would make Thane _distinctly_ suspicious. When there had been no question to answer she'd needed _precious_ little coaxing to appreciate him bodily, be that in the most sexual sense or more tenderly, and being overly tentative and fretful..which she would be if her fear of repeating history and having him flinch from her in shame and self-deprecation went unsettled..just wasn't her. She needed therefore to find a way of solving that quandary before it became an issue, and on that..

A frustrated huff echoed through the elevator as it began to slow.

..she was pretty much stumped. Since there was no way in all goddamn fucking **HELL** that she'd ask him about it outright, it was all she could do to hope that it would either somehow come up in conversation..her beau perhaps relaying good news to her of his own accord..or that things would take such a _distinctly_ amorous turn that she'd have no time for tentativeness and the question of his being in top working order would be settled without the need for speech.

..

..

Given a choice..she'd prefer that second one, but that choice was Thane's, not hers.

Her objectives in mind, Shepard strode from the elevator as soon as it let her out onto Floor One and was, after three long strides, by her door. Although its interface glowed a robust and unwelcoming red - a signal that Thane, as he had in the past, had locked it against unwanted guests - it opened to her as soon as she neared it and let out to greet her a haze of warm, dry air that carried a vaguely earthy scent undercut by what she knew to be the lingering wisp of expensive tea.

As she walked in, passing by the untouched boxes she'd left by the door prior to her departure, she noted that the space was warmly though dimly lit, the settings for the usually harsh white fixtures having been tinkered with carefully until the desired effect was procured. The presently empty fish tanks on the left wall bubbled away to themselves quietly, their backlights dimmed into unobtrusiveness, and as she listened she detected occasional notes of a similar kind of soft, ambient music to that she recalled from her trip to the Drellish section of _Bioware's_ earlier in the day.

Seeking the architect of this greatly welcoming atmosphere, she called out, "Thane?" as she neared the steps that lead down to the sleeping area, though stopped with a caught breath at the sight that greeted her once she reached their top. There, on their bed, lay her mate wrapped up in their most favourite blanket; his head resting on a pillow he'd placed quite strategically to allow him to both recline comfortably and afford him the best view of the door. He was just beginning to sit up on his elbow to greet her, a smile of shameless affection curving his lips as a low and joyful hum echoed up from his chest. It lent the words he spoke to her a depthful timbre..

"Siha..Goddess but you are a sight for sore eyes.."

..and just like that her situation switched around to what it had been during their talk on stealth - outside noisy, inside empty – the noise coming from him this time and the silence again within her. As soon as she saw him..a wash of rich, green scales swathed in the deep grey of his high-waisted sleeping trousers and the blueish-purple of the blanket..as soon as she heard his voice..deep and echoing because of that low, bassy hum..her pep-talking just plain winked out of existence. For a half-second's length she was flummoxed utterly by the reality of her situation; by the fact that he was here, now, in their quarters, in their bed and seemingly just as well as the doctor's scans and numbers told her he was. There was nothing of what there once had been here.

No oxygen tank.

No mask.

No tubes.

No beeping machines and hovering physicians.

None of that.

Just him.

Just Thane.

A little coil of what she was _sure_ was the achievement of nirvana uncurled in her chest, and it was that, not conscious thought, that had her answer him with a joyous, frankly dumbstruck "Hi..."; that had her pitch both blue sparkly balloon and magazine onto the desk by her terminal and sent her down the stairs two at a time towards him with a gleeful, breathy exclamation that was half squeal half giggle. As he sat up to meet her she reached for him, halting his attempt at righting himself before it properly began. Their hands touched fleetingly, then their arms went about each other, and she sank down onto the bed beside him; mindful, as she kissed his lips and gently, playfully guided him over onto his back amid pillow and blanket, to keep her weight from pressing into his chest.

Well or not, seemingly entirely comfortable or not, luck was not something that she would push.

They traded kisses, all soft and lingering to keep from sending her woozy for a second time, until the need for a full breath parted them and they drew back, but only barely. Only enough for that needed breath and for words they never thought they'd hear said to be so by Shepard, and echoed by a thought from Thane.

"Welcome _home_."

"Home?" he mused, smiling up at her as he stroked the backs of his fingers along the inside of her left forearm. The weight of his gaze imbued the, "Yes.." that followed with more meaning than its simplicity implied, and Shepard felt her little coil of nirvana uncurl all the more as she caught his meaning.

_He's calling __**me**__ home _

Her chest tight with emotion, she repeated his confirmatory, "Yes.." before asking through a slightly choked-up laugh, "Did I wake you up coming in?"

"You did not" he murmured, drawing her down a hint further and nuzzling the tip of his nose to hers affectionately. "I got all I could done while you were indisposed, and only laid down to rest about fifteen minutes ago." He gave an almost coy grin then, stretching mutedly and puffing out a long, supremely contented breath. The words he next spoke were perhaps a hint confident given the length of the day he'd had, but he'd stand by them..particularly since, in his current circumstances, _standing_ by them entailed _laying down_ beside, and indeed beneath, his mate."I am not weary. Simply comfortable."

She smiled and sat back a bit in response, glancing around quickly and noting that the cases she'd abandoned at her mother's call had been tidied away before returning her full attention to her beau and reaching with curled fingers to stroke the plates on his brow; singling out the darker one at his forehead's centre for special attention. Care was taken to outline it in much the same way she had hours back in the hospital during her period of Drell-induced light aversion, and those around it received a similar touch from the pad of her thumb as she spoke. "I can see you've been busy. Wouldn't have left the place in such a tip, but the call for the meeting came when I was halfway through unpacking."

"Such _timing_.." Thane mused, his eyes closing at his mate's loving ministrations.

"I know right" she huffed, affection warming her expression as she looked upon and caressed his restful face, her fingers moving with tender purpose now down the bridge of his nose. Her tone was soft and playful as she asked, "You sure you're not tired? You look it.."

Thane's chuckle was more easily felt than heard as he reiterated, "_Comfortable_, Siha.." just as playfully. Opening his eyes but leaving them hooded as her fingers moved on to the pleated skin on his left cheek, he asked, "And what of you? Has the day worn on you?"

Shepard's fingers faltered, a reflexive plea for caution whispering up at his question, and mentally she rounded on it; recognising it as one of her older, more deep-rooted copings. It warned her to be careful..to mind what she shared about her day to avoid topics that might let her beau know how terribly she'd dealt with him being sick..and while she agreed with it in part (unwilling as she was to dwell on those times at all, let alone in Thane's company) she knew the logic behind it - that he was too sick to handle the stress that knowledge would bring - was wrong.

Wrong and therefore disregardable..get-past-able..and, in time..forgettable.

Using this knowledge as a shield, she railed against the flutterings of anxiety that the thought of not heeding the coping's warning completely caused and sought a compromise. She would not keep every one of the day's worries and difficulties from her mate, but that which she had already resolved to keep for a later time - her experience with Kolyat and his worries about Thane travelling with her - would not be up for sharing.

That particular issue didn't need injecting into their evening now.

Her composure gathered, she ignored the gnawing, 'You're going to make him worry you prat! Don't do this!' feeling in her gut, swallowed past a new and uneasy tightness in her throat and took what she knew to be the first step on her way to loosening the grip her by now conditioned view of her mate - poorly and in need of protecting, even, in some ways, from her - had on her. She spoke..albeit a little hesitantly and with a healthy pinch of vague-about-worries but detailed about everything else.

"It..er..it had its moments, sure. Started off with an EDI-induced headache."

"Oh?"

"We had your welcome back party last night" she explained, managing a grin and a wry comeback when Thane asked with faux affront, "In my absence?"

"You did say you'd prefer an evening in with your books."

He chuckled deeply as the memory of his saying precisely that over the AICS came back to him. "And you" he replied, nodding towards the coffee table and the items atop it, "are perhaps the most thoughtful woman alive."

She followed his gaze, a puff of laughter escaping when she realised that the carefully arranged array of gifts she'd left for him had not only been found, but _used_, and quite suddenly she understood what the warm and earthy scent on the air was.

Sand.

Heated sand.

"You've had a bath" she beamed.

"I have indeed" Thane confirmed, looking every inch like the cat that had both caught the canary and got the cream in one sitting. "Your selections were masterful. I must _thank_ you."

Cheeks pinking faintly, Shepard waved off the praise. "I'd still be in the shop now if the attendant hadn't come along and corralled me. Kehksi was her name."

"Drellish" he noted, the name being too singularly of his people for its owner to have been anything but.

She nodded. "Yeah. Sere Kehksi."

"Eera" he corrected, smiling.

"Sorry?"

"_Sere_ is the masculine variation of the word. _Eera_ is the feminine. The equivalent of Ma'm instead of Sir."

"Oh!" Shepard exclaimed, a quiet chortle escaping around the word. "Good job I didn't try and get all formal with her in person then, hm? What was it again? Say it slowly.."

"Ee..rah" Thane supplied, his pronunciation careful.

"Eee..rah.." she mimicked, brightening at the affirming nod her effort received. She was sure it wasn't perfect, there being nuances to Drellish speech that she couldn't hear let alone copy, but as long as her beau approved she was golden."Eee-rah Kehksi then. She was great. Explained things that I didn't quite understand at first and everything."

"Were there many?"

"More than a couple, but I got there in the end." She glanced back towards the table. "Was there anything I missed?"

"Missed?" Thane parroted, disbelief and mirth in his tone. "Siha, in the past I have made do with nothing more specialised than a scoop of sand, a bowl and a cloth warmed on a radiator. Your gifts so far outstrip the basic requirements of bathing that to add more.." He chuckled, his gaze warm and loving as she looked down at him expectantly. "You missed nothing..and are liable to spoil me."

Shepard's grin made the corners of her eyes crinkle. "There's more, you know" she said, another chortle bubbling up at the shock on her mate's face. "Not much more though, I promise. Just a few bits in the boxes by the door. Some eatables. Bathing oils. That kind of thing."

Thane matched her joyful exclamation with one of his own. "Truly, you have outdone yourself" he enthused, taking a gentle hold of her forearms as she took a hold of his. "Saying that I wish to repay you-"

She shook her head. He inclined his knowingly.

"-will get me nowhere, I know. But you must at least share in the use of what you've brought. It is only right, until I've an opportunity to treat you in kind."

"Share?" she asked, her interest piqued, "I didn't think I'd be able to, honestly. Humans don't bathe with sand, and I'd swear I lost a layer of skin just looking at some of the types on display in that shop."

"Ohh you needn't use it on your own skin, love" Thane smiled, raising his brows as she did hers and glancing down to where her hands rested against his arms.

It only took her a breath to catch on.

"Now?" she pressed hopefully, the thought of helping her mate with a bath being perhaps the most pleasing one she'd had all day; and that was so even with her having learnt about the Drellish icon for 'Siha' and dwelled on the idea of giving him a massage - oil and all. To her chagrin, he responded in the negative..

"The next, certainly. I had hoped to share this evening's with you, but..alas."

..and drew her mind right back, with his allusion to her having missed her chance to assist him today because of her meeting-caused-absence, to the question of her day and the less than pleasant happenings within it. The same coping that'd warned her to mind her tongue earlier prickled again, a knot of tension settling beside the nirvana in her chest as she grit her teeth and did her damnedest to carry through with her resolve to get past that which had become as indelible as it was irrelevant to her life at present. To her credit, she didn't keep her shift in mood out of her expression - her brows drawing down slightly and lips pinching with unease - and for this fact she gave herself a mental gold star.

A year back, her beau would've seen nothing but serenity.

In a small way, that in itself was a success.

"My day ran long, I know" she lamented, working herself up to face in open conversation, even if vaguely, those parts of her day that wore on her the most. "Longer than it should have. I..ahh..went to see Doctor Chakwas after my meeting. S'where I got the balloon from.."

"I saw that when you came in, yes" Thane put in, renewed focus in his eyes as he listened to his Siha's words. Her dour turn bothered him, and prompted a question. "The visit troubled you?"

"_I _troubled me" she chuffed, averting her gaze for a brief moment and shaking her head derisively. "It wasn't the doc's fault. She was showing off the scan she took of your lungs when you were down with her. That and a table with numbers on it that mean you aren't sick. She wanted to talk to me about ways we could help you get better, and that was fine..but the memories that caught up with me as she was explaining things just.." Again, she shook her head, glancing back towards her mate when she felt him shifting beside her.

He sat up, collecting her hands in his in much the same way he once had across the table in the Life Support plant, and said, "I feel your pain, Siha" as he stroked gentle circles on her palm with his thumb. "Perfect memory can be a hellish burden for such things."

Her reply, "I know" was so soft it was almost a whisper, her eyes fixed on their hands.

Thane's was stronger, his concern for her both telling and expressed in a way that sent a wash of adrenaline through her. "Tell me what worried you. What you were reminded of. I would ease your mind."

Mundane and gentile as the request sounded, to Shepard it was anything but. It was not like his last question on her day, and despite the fact that she'd more or less expected him to dig deeper and was fixed on sharing her troubles as best she could, it still brought her out in a cold sweat and made her mind race. Potential topics flew back and forth as they were weighed and discarded, none feeling, in her uniquely paranoid opinion, safe enough to raise with him, and for all she knew now that this pick-and-choosing was coping-born, that knowledge, as she'd deduced during the ride up to her quarters, didn't stop her from doing it.

It did however help her fight on through it.

_I'll answer him_, she told herself, trying her best to settle. _I just..need to find something to share and work up to it_.

And work she did.

Three false starts.. "I don't..I mean you..I can't.." ..came and went before she managed to put a something to voice. Quiet as it was, it sounded almost meek as she spoke it, "..I don't want to make you uncomfortable.." and expressed, to her mind, a legitimate and natural worry - one that, despite the fact that it wasn't technically an instance or happening that worried her, qualified as her triumphing over her ingrained need to hide such things and therefore earned her another mental gold star. To Thane though it was so alien a premise, and felt so out of place coming from her, that he scoffed at hearing it said.

"_Siha_.." he drew, frowning with disbelief, "When have you made me so? I recall no such time."

And there..

Just like that..

Just..like..that..her mate managed, unknowingly, to give her directionless graspings for a topic to share a very clear course indeed; one which pointed inexorably, whatever way she sliced it, towards her still unanswered question regarding his intimate capabilities.

The nudge came from _his_ question.

Of all the little cultural missteps they had made on their journey towards one another..

..from that which saw her reach with curious fingers for the pleating on Thane's throat without having been given permission.. ..to how he'd managed, by wondering aloud about the seeming delicacy of human skin compared to the relative toughness of Drellish scales, to set Mordin off on a rant that not only would have outed them as a couple if it hadn't been for the fact that the only others present - Garrus and Tali - already knew, but that had kept her blushing for an hour after it'd ended.. ..to how Thane hadn't known where to look when she went to show him a particularly nasty bruise on her lower-tummy without realising that that area, on both male and female Drell, is considered just about as private as their _most_ private places..

..the only time she could think of where real, deep discomfort was had between them was in the moment when her hands had wandered upon his most intimate reaches without his having wanted them to.

This was perfect!

Not only could she bring the topic up, but because of the way he'd phrased his question she could do so in a way that wouldn't involve her asking him about it directly. She could answer, place the offending incident on the proverbial table, and leave what he decided to share on it to his discretion.

It was as easy as it was going to ever get!

..

Yet despite this..despite the relative fortuitousness of her situation..the words she spoke to take advantage of her good fortune were, without doubt or question, the hardest she'd yet spoken this eve.

"I was clumsy once" she began, shifting in place and forcing herself to meet her mate's questioning, concerned gaze as she wrangled the point she wanted to put across into some kind of order. She was so tense as she did that she almost trembled, adrenaline sending her hot and cold at once; making her words choppy and shortening her breath. "Clumsy and thoughtless and I pressed you for things your body wasn't up for. You flinched from me then, and I don't blame you. I'd have done the same."

And then it was said. Said and done and finished, and she couldn't relax because she was waiting for his response. For an excuse to justify falling back on her copings and never _**ever**_ speaking so damn candidly again; for his eyes to flick away..for some whisper of self-disgust to make itself at home in his posture.._anything_.

..

..

But nothing of the like ever came.

As he had before, Thane scoffed at her words. He knew the moment she spoke of, though his recollection of it and the reasons underpinning it seemed, to hear his mate speak, quite different to hers. Gentling his tone, he spoke to correct her.

"That" he said, "was not discomfort brought on by you."

It was Shepard's turn to scoff now, her words drenched in self-recrimination. "Come on. If I hadn't-"

"No" he cut in. "The situation came about at all because of my silence. Shame choked me and stole from you the explanation you deserved until after the fact. If there is blame in that at all-"

"No" she breathed, shaking her head; refusing to let him blame himself.

"-then it is mine."

And again she repeated her refusal, unwilling to hear him speak such things without firm and conscientious rebuttal. "No." Giving his fingers a gentle squeeze, she added, "No blame either way", and although she didn't believe the words entirely, sure as she was in her mind that wandering fingers really did, in that limited circumstance, do the Devil's work, placating her beau won out over tearing herself a new one.

Just.

Seemingly as unconvinced as she at first, Thane considered pursuing the matter further, though chose, since it was obviously a point of great stress for her, not to. Instead, he returned the squeeze she'd given to his fingers and replied, "Very well" before asking, "This was one of the memories brought to you by your talk with the doctor?"

Shepard nodded, tense still, her eyes on their hands as she spoke. "One of them. I remembered plenty. The gasping and the stress and the waiting and..but..yeah. I didn't..don't..want to have you flinch from me again, so.." the last word was tiny, "..yeah."

Thane was silent for a time after she finished, and she was halfway to apologising, thinking she'd crossed a line, when he spoke up. "Through all of the strife such memories must have caused you" he said, the affection in his eyes somehow startling to she who had expected, at best, mild embarrassment, "your first thought was of ensuring my comfort."

"I.." she tried, the word coming without a thought to carry. She wanted to protest..to explain that no, she hadn't even thought of the possibility of him being in a position to be made uncomfortable until the doctor brought up massage and circulation and 'personal time'..but found herself caught between two equally accurate, equally pressing thoughts on the matter.

The first was that, in this moment at least, it seemed that the want to protect was not hers alone – Thane's placation doing a fine job of protecting her from further stress – and the second was that said placation wasn't, on reflection, as inaccurate as it'd first appeared. The entire reason she'd had her momentary mental flail was because she was petrified of causing him the kind of stress she had in the past with a well-intentioned but horrifically timed advance, and so instead of disagreeing and drawing into the open even more of her half-cocked machinations than she already had, she replied simply. Truthfully.

"It's what I'm for."

Affection swelling in him at her words, Thane guided her into a chaste though loving kiss. Only once it was given did he reply, his words carefully considered. "I am deeply grateful for that, Siha, and would be thrice over for your understanding had I still been struggling. As it is though, while my body does tire on occasion.." he paused fractionally, recalling words he had once said that fit the moment well, "..much as I might look at my knee after recalling an injury and find that it is not shattered, you may now look upon me and know too that your memories do not tally with life."

A huff of shock and relief escaped Shepard then, and she ducked her head down, guiding her mate's palm to her cheek so that she might hide against it as what he'd told her sank in. He'd been inclusive with his words, not one of the memories she'd mentioned being left out of his assessment that their past was merely that - merely memory and nothing more - and what that meant..

What that _meant_..

Well, let's just say that the question she had once lacked an answer to had now quite politely been answered.

She was about to comment on this..to make it crystal clear how pleased she was that he was healing so well and express how much it meant to her that he must be feeling like himself again - his full self, not his getting worse and feeling worthless self - but she got no further than readying a breath to speak with before Thane curled his fingers at her jaw and drew her focus back to his face. A moment of pointed attention was paid to every facet of her expression, and his fingers moved, touching her brow..then her temple..as though he was assessing her somehow.

"Your mind races" he opined, stroking the backs of his fingers down her warm, pinked cheek. "Were the room silent I'd wager I might hear it."

It was all she could do not to laugh, perceptive as he was of her preoccupation, and she decided, her unease beginning to settle thanks to her beau's coaxing gentleness, to do as he had with the subject of blame for their long-gone misunderstanding and let what had so troubled her rest. It would only pain her to clutch onto, after all.

With an affectionate rib then, she tried for humour. "With those little ears?"

Thane smiled, glad that the self-critical tone was beginning to leave her voice. He spoke a droll, "I beg your pardon?" and joined her as she chuckled at his wit before drawing her close, a low hum of contentment easing itself free from his chest when she embraced him in return and settled her weight against him. They remained so for a long moment, each simply revelling in the other's presence until Thane, his need to ensure that his mate's unease was dealt with fully coming to the fore, spoke up.

"Siha?"

A mumble wisped up from somewhere near his collarbone. "Mmm?"

"You are well, I hope? Not troubled still?"

She tripped over her response at first, knowing she'd be lying if she said she was completely fine. She wasn't. There was a year of hell and damnation in her brain that'd need setting straight in increments; a year of coping and preparing and waiting and, more recently, _war_. For now though, that could wait. That could wait..and she could tell him how she really felt - just..minus references to coping mechanisms and panicking.

Talk of those..

No.

Just no.

"A bit frazzled.." she admitted, unwilling to raise her head from its place on his shoulder, "but I'll be fine in a minute. Just need t-.." Edging a whisper closer, she nestled into his embrace and hoped he caught her drift.

_Just need a minute here_

_Just need a cuddle_

_Just need you_

They were things she had no compunction about speaking to him, but she found herself so caught in the feel of him that talking lost its appeal very, very quickly. It'd been too damn long since they'd done this - even with their meetings at Huerta and the closeness involved in them. They hadn't been like this, hadn't been _at home_ in their own space at their own time for so long that she'd almost forgotten what it felt like, and as she pondered that thought in her love's warm embrace another asserted itself with such force that it made her grasp at him with a hitched breath and what sounded suspiciously like a sniffle.

In all honesty they had _never_ been like this.

Not devoid of those awful little back-of-the-mind whispers that reminded them that 'them' was finite.

Words came again then, her knowledge that Thane's attentiveness to her emotional state would not have allowed him to miss the slip in her composure prompting them, "Ok..maybe more than a bit.." and she laughed quietly through what would have otherwise been a little sob as his hold upon her tightened and he grumbled with concern.

"I'm fine" she managed, her voice wispy and tight but still clear as she clutched at him. Untrue as the words were, she couldn't leave them unsaid; couldn't just..wobble like this without at least trying to save face.

Thane's reply echoed faintly, low and undercut as it was by that grumble of his. "I know."

She huffed out a second choked laugh, sure he was just humouring her. "I _am_."

He nodded, his jaw gently lent to her temple. "And I am here."

This time, and for an easy five minutes after it, the huff she gave in response was more her fighting the urge to weep for joy than actual laughter. It was a losing battle at first, her hard-won and maintained composure when it came to broaching difficult topics somehow absent when it came to beautiful, ecstatic home truths like that she was faced with now, but with a little persistence on her part and Thane's unwavering support she managed to put herself back together enough that she was able to sit up and see to her face with a tissue he procured from his pocket for her.

After a blow of the nose and a wipe of the eyes, she mustered, "Seems like I'm always doing that..", referencing their very first reunion and the tears she had then cried into his shoulder. "Sorry."

He shook his head, as unwilling to hear apologies from her as she had been to hear him blame himself for their once misunderstanding earlier. "There is no fault in such a thing, Siha" he said, reaching and tucking a displaced lock of hair behind her left ear. The smile the gesture earned him began to ease his mind about how she was faring, and he spoke again after a slight pause in the hope of helping her settle further. "Might I share a story with you? It came to me as soon as I saw you this evening, your hands full and smile wide. I would see that expression again."

Shepard blinked curiously at the request. "A story?"

"The balloon you carried" Thane clarified with a nod. "It has a history."

A soft "Ohh.." escaped her, her smile warming a hint. "The doc told me that you use them for range practice. There's more to it?"

"There is" he confirmed, returning her smile. "It is not a new habit. It began a good number of months ago now while I was on one of my afternoon walks. They would take me all over the hospital, through bustling corridors and quiet spaces, and on this particular day I was feeling strong. Rested. I decided to lengthen the excursion I'd planned to take and pass by the Children's Ward."

"Did you go in?" Shepard asked, tucking her tissue into her pocket as she listened.

Thane shook his head. "No. I've no disdain for the young, Siha, but seeing them ailing.." his lips thinned slightly at the thought, "..brings me great discomfort. I merely thought to walk by on my way back to my quarters. Providence though.." his smile returned, kindly and fond, "had other ideas. An Asari, one no older than thirty years I'm sure, and quite small, was sitting by the open door of the dayroom adjoining the ward. She was surrounded by colouring pens and had a book of line-drawings open over her knees. The corridor was otherwise quiet as I made my way past, and I smiled at her faintly when her head came up and she focused on me. I'd have thought nothing more of her had she not abandoned her art materials and padded up to my side.

'Excuse me!' she called as she neared me.

I turned, curious. 'Yes?'

'I was waiting for a nurse to come past so I could ask them' she explained, sheepishly ducking her chin and shifting on her feet, 'but you came first.' She held up a hand to me, a crumpled object in its palm. 'A mother brought these in for us when she visited her daughter today, but I can't get it to go up. Could you..?'.."

An ache beginning low in her chest, Shepard asked, "It was a balloon, right?" Her beau's nod confirmed her guess, and she gave a quiet puff of touched laughter. "And you blew it up for her?"

"I was unsure, at first, whether I would be able to" he confided. "I still suffered breathlessness after prolonged activity at that point, and didn't want to succumb to a panting fit in front of her. I took my feeling strong as an indication that I should at least try however..and try I did." He smiled, modest but proud. "It took a few small breaths, but I managed it, and I've used them since as a rehabilitation aid."

The ache in her chest swelling with affection and pride, Shepard could do little but beam for the first few seconds that came after the close of her mate's tale. The dichotomy that was him..the life-trained assassin who was so gentle in many ways, particularly with children..was, as it had been often times in the past, patent to her then, and she spoke a loving, "If that wasn't the sweetest thing I've heard in months I don't know what is" as his smile turned from modest to warm.

"It was not meant to cloy, love."

"It didn't" she murmured, returning the delicate nuzzle of nose-tip to nose-tip he'd given her earlier before they shared a kiss. "Just caught me in my weak spot, that's all."

His brows rose. "And where is that?"

In answer she reached for him, touching a hand to his upper chest and giving it a tender stroke as she replied, "Right here." They shared another kiss then, Thane humming deeply and leaning to her for it, and Shepard's fingers moved further, appreciating the expanse of muscle she'd found and the slow, steady heartbeat her fingertips detected as they passed over its source. Intent on feeling more of him, she brought her second hand up, but as his hands in turn found her shoulder, her waist, and they traded yet another kiss, her fingers tripped over something..a roughness amid the sea of otherwise smooth scales. Curious, she eased back to take a look at what she'd come across, and instantly, on sight, went stock still.

It was thin still, like it had been the last time she'd seen it; so thin it resembled a paper cut..but it was there. Still there. The scar that split her love's chest down the middle. The scar from the surgery that saved his life.

As they had when first she'd seen it, her heart stuttered and her throat tightened, but this time..this time shock and relief didn't overcome her and bring her tears. She was able to look now..and as Thane's hands found hers, cupping them as they lingered on his scales..she was able to touch too. To feel it properly, and she did. Beginning at its topmost point, her fingers moved along its slender length so tenderly, so carefully, that had her mate been made of glass she wouldn't have left a fingerprint on him. Down then through its middle and on to its bottom-most end she went, her eyes and entire focus on it as she asked, "Does it still hurt?"

Although she didn't see it, fixed as she was on watching her fingers retrace their journey, Thane smiled at the question. "If I find myself in a cool environment for a protracted time, a dull ache may set in, yes. Otherwise though..now.." he squeezed her hands affectionately and met her eyes when she glanced up to his, "no. The bruising is long gone, and what damage was done by the operation has healed. And what's better.." Gathering her fingers in his, he moved her hands out over his chest and eased them flat against it, one on either side. "This.." and he took a breath..deep..slow..and so easy..so easy..in..and out.. "is likewise.." and another..in..and out..and carrying with it a low rumble.. "painless."

Shepard smiled blissfully at his words, her delight inspiring in her an idea that turned her regard both loving and coy. She shifted a hint closer to her beau to push gently at his chest, coaxing him to, "Lay back for me..", and he obliged gladly, drawing her down along with him as he relaxed back into both blanket and pillow.

Ever mindful not to settle upon him too firmly, pain-free or not, she tucked herself as closely to his side as she could without pulling her feet up onto the bed (combat boots had no place there regardless of her circumstances, and she had not even the slightest intention of moving away from her mate to remove them now) and touched her cheek to his chest. Entranced both by its texture and by the steady low thrum she could just..just make out if she strained her ears, she nuzzled there briefly before sitting up a fraction and observing the area from inches away; her fingers crawling up again to stroke the raised line that ran along its middle. From this close she could tell that it was slightly uneven, wider in places than it was in others, and, intent on enacted that idea she'd had, she shifted, leaning up on her elbow and over enough that she could kiss its very topmost point; retracing the path her fingers had taken with her lips.

A low gasp was her beau's immediate response, and she caught his eyes a moment and saw the affection in hers mirrored in them before she leant again, pressing a second kiss to the spot just below that which the first was given to..and a third just below that..and a fourth..a fifth..a sixth..and more. She poured every ounce of her love for him into those kisses..giving it, in a sense, to the scar that was the only visible remnant of the procedure that saved him..to try and make how precious he was to her known in some small way.

To show how thankful she was for having him still, and how much she truly loved him.

Her devotions continued right down to the scar's lowest point, and there she paused, her hands now either side of him, stroking his flanks with something like reverence; her weight on her forearms and brow nestling just below the spot where her final kiss landed. And she listened again, as her mate rumbled pleasurably and his hands moved to her hair, loosening the tie that held it back and discarding it when slightly band-kinked black locks tickled the scales over which her head was bowed. He made no move to coax her to rise, feeling as keenly as she did the import of what she had done..the affection and implicit acceptance of both him generally and the experience that gave him his most prominent and obvious scar conveyed by her kisses..and instead relaxed into the moment with her, stroking his fingers through her hair as she gathered herself.

Minutes passed with them this way. Comfortable, absolutely content minutes which were peppered with the feeling of warm breath upon scales and the undeniable Wholeness each other's simple presence brought with it. And then, a slight change.

Movement.

Shepard drew in a deep breath as she raised her head, lolling it back into her mate's hand as she met his eyes along his body. Neither spoke. There was no need to. Instinct led them both as they drew together, Thane pulling gently at his Siha's arms and tilting his chin back and to the side in invitation. The gesture was an offer, one which was given in Drellish culture by a gentleman to a lady who he wished to invite close enough that she might appreciate his colours, and also one which, through long acquaintance, Shepard understood. With an ease she didn't once possess she leant, resting her weight on her forearm and lingering close to the purposefully exposed area with her nose and lips; breathing in the familiar male Drell scent of his skin. She lingered there for a long moment, her mate's open hands stroking slowly along her back - appreciating the play of her muscles as she held herself above him - before easing forth enough that she could give the first pleat she reached a tender kiss.

Thane's breath hitched at the feeling, and a noise, half rumble half rasping sigh, escaped along with a word from somewhere low in his chest. "Siha.."

"Hmm?" she breathed, picking another pleat, slightly lower this time, and giving it a similar kiss. There was not a word in his reply, but she understood it as clearly as she would have had he spoken it. A deep, familiar hum-buzz replaced the rumbling in his chest; one she could feel in her bones where she touched him and that drew from her a gasp, four words, "I love you _back_", and another spate of movement. She shifted far enough up alongside him that she could rest her weight bearing arm beside his head and lean, her free hand cupping his cheek, to take his lips in a kiss so soft and lingering that, like her touch upon his chest, it would not have left a mark upon glass.

This touch, this affection, was in honesty her favourite of those she and her beau shared. It _meant_. They all meant, of course, but this one always caught her with its implications more entirely than any other. It was such a gentle thing, so consciously, purposefully tender and so contrary to every outward manifestation of cool, entirely professional, martially competent 'Shepard' that it felt uniquely personal to her. To them. And perhaps most of all, above all of those equally worthy reasons, it had on occasion done to Thane's more amorous nature what a spark does to kindling.

Between the first and second of their kisses this thought came to her, and it was echoed by three little self-reminders.._don't rush_.._don't assume anything_.._follow his lead_..that, upon inspection, were judged to be a product of prudence, not a coping resurgence, and were therefore heeded without compunction as they traded tantalising caresses of lip to lip. And follow she did as their second kiss became the third, and that the fourth and then, as they risked a deeper affection..lips opening to one another and tongues meeting to caress while Thane's hands spanned her back, his fingertips skirting the very bottom edge of her t-shirt and beginning to dip beneath..she started to sense quite where she was being led.

A mixture of excitement and delight filling her at the prospect of further intimacy, whatever that intimacy turned out to be, she asked softly, coyly, and just to make perfectly sure after they parted for breath, "Are you flirting with me, Krios?" Her fingertips caught his answer, tracing his lips as they were..a kiss..and as they moved away to stroke his jaw..a smile and a look that filled her stomach with fiery butterflies.

Quiet laughter, breathy and touched, bubbled up within her then, and she spoke through a smile just as warm and inviting of him as his was of her. "Lemme just see to my boots and I'll be.." She drew in a breath and gave a nibble to her lower lip that her beau mimicked on his as he gazed up at her. Fixed on the gesture, it took her a moment (and a clearing of the throat) to finish her thought, "..right back", and then, with immense reluctance, she moved away and swung her legs over the edge of their bed, leaning down to tend to her laces.

As it turned out however, 'away' didn't remain such for long.

She was halfway done with her right boot when she felt movement at the back of her; movement that turned out to be the precursor for arms coming about her from behind. Those same arms eased her upright, and a warm, open-lipped suckle was given, after a clever nose moved her hair out of the way, to the side of her neck. An appreciative hum escaped on her next exhalation, followed by words of a breathy and mildly wry order..

"I'll never get these off if yo-.."

..which were cut off by a hushed moan when another suckle was taken just above the first.

"..Thane.."

And then another followed that, just above it and behind her ear. A breath whooshed from her, and she swallowed hard, the fluttering heat in her tummy beginning to pool and collect in places that had, since they'd parted, known nothing of warmth. Nothing of need.

".._Thane_.."

His response was a whispered, "Yes?" that was spoken quite literally a half inch from her ear; a half inch and a half breath before its lobe received the next of his affections - the gentlest little pull between his lips. Her spine nigh-on melted right there, but she managed words still..even as she arched her head back to invite her mate closer.

"The boots..two minutes.."

The gesture and what she said were at odds, and Thane chuckled affectionately, giving her neck a final kiss and lingering to breathe in deeply the clean, warm scent of her skin. He remained thus for a long moment, basking in the familiarity of that scent until, quite without his say-so, a memory from an earlier point in the evening came back to him.

_- Her fingers are gentle as they trace my features and carry with them a faint, familiar antiseptic trace. The scent of Mordin's gift no doubt, dutifully applied per his instructions -_

He thought little of it at first, reflexive comparisons of just that sort being one of the numerous ways in which Drell build up and reaffirm acquaintances with others, but as he took another breath..his nose and lips nuzzled gently against his love's neck..he noticed an irregularity between his memory and life.

The medicinal scent he had recalled was missing.

This required investigation.

"Siha?" he brooked, leaning around her right shoulder in the hopes of catching her eye. Her initial response was nothing more coherent than a string of vowel sounds, but she perked up a hint when he repeated her love-name.

"What is it?" she asked, canting her head around to look at him. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, love" he assured, before asking, "The salve Mordin gave to you. Have you applied it? I caught its scent on your hands but.."

Shepard was still a moment, her slightly desire-addled brain fighting against having to deal with thoughts that concerned people other than she and her beau. Quickly though, what he was asking sank in; sank in and drew from her a scowl of utter contempt and a disbelieving groan.

"I did" she snarled, dropping her face into her hands, "but only on my hands, my forearms and my face. The meeting was called on the spot. I didn't have time to apply it anywhere else."

Thane chuffed softly, deliberately putting an unwanted foot of distance between he and his now quietly cursing love's body. At his move, the cursing grew a hint louder. Exasperation _was_ Shepard in that moment. She turned pleading eyes on him, trying, "You don't have to st-", but he was faster.

"I _do_. I recall too vividly the consequences of spending an evening together without the ointment being used. Your skin has been so dry and irritated in its absence that it _bled_. I will not watch you suffer that again."

"But-"

"But" he put in quickly, tilting his head a hint and favouring her with a grin, "you have the salve, yes?"

Shepard blinked. "S'in the bathroom, yeah.."

"It takes only minutes to apply."

"Minutes I'd rather spend with you!" she grumbled, huffing and starting back on the boot she was halfway to wrestling off. She knew he was right and that she'd need to soak herself in Mordin's most aptly given gift before they could really be at liberty to spend time in each other's intimate company, but that knowledge neither made her any less frustrated, nor any less likely to make a fuss about having to interrupt their canoodling to do the sensible thing.

For Thane though, frustrated or not, the sensible route was an easy choice. "I will not have you suffer for impatience's sake" he reiterated, budging not an inch on the issue as he watched her with quiet amusement. The first boot fell to her persistence, then the second, and he met her eyes and smiled as she straightened up again, her elbows huffily pressed to her knees and a deeply disaffected frown sent his way.

"I've taken much worse" she muttered, brows raised in defiance despite the fact that she knew arguing was pointless. Thane was about as stubborn as she was, and at his muted head shake she gave in and stood to make for the bathroom. She'd reached the door when he called to her.

"Siha?"

"Yeah?" she replied, looking back at him.

"When you have done all you can" he supplied, a familiar, long-missed promise in his eyes, "bring the pot and a cloth out here. I cannot touch your skin to help apply it, but that doesn't mean I cannot help at all."

A grin of the mightily shit-eating variety curled her lips in response, and she winked at him before practically jigging into the bathroom, her delighted laughter muffled as the door closed behind her.

Perhaps this diversion wasn't going to be so bad after all.

* * *

><p><em>And now!<em>

**Coming in the next chapter**

Bed-mediated-reacquaintance

That is all.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Greetings all. As you may have guessed and just as a warning to younger readers, this chapter explores adult themes of a rather intimate nature. Smut certainly wasn't what I was going for in writing it - that being something I've never felt quite suited my Shepard and Thane - but as I say, adult themes.

**Do be mindful**

Also, just a quick nod to the fact that the Citadel DLC has come out - many thanks to all involved in its creation, but I'll keep my head-canon. For all the closure it may have given (I haven't watched Thane's part in it and know myself too well to. I'd just cry and I don't play games and get emotionally invested in characters to see..Anyway) I simply prefer my own version of events, and may inject elements of the DLC into that at an appropriate juncture.

For now, please do enjoy the chapter.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>Stamina<span>

_**Thane's preoccupation brings Shepard to an incorrect conclusion**_

In the Captain's cabin aboard the Normandy, a distinctly feminine gasp joined soft, ambient music on the air; a gasp that was followed by a Drellish rumble of enjoyment and wispy, dry-throated words from she who caused both.

"Is it dry yet?"

The rumbling redoubled and shifted slightly in pitch, deepening to convey what any female Drell of adult years would recognise as the love of a most appreciative, most wanting mate. Words came then..

"..Let me check again, just to be sure.."

..and as he had seconds prior Thane lowered his head and brushed the softest of kisses to the skin of his Siha's lower back; investigating whether the cream he'd helped apply had properly dried.

Again, she gasped, shuddering pleasurably at the sensation.

Again, the rumble he had never before been able to share with her redoubled through his exhalation.

And then..a pause to think. As he had when he'd come upon the gifts she had left for him earlier, Thane found himself torn between two equally enticing options. The truth..that the cream was dry and her skin quite safe from complaints that the natural oils upon his own might cause..or..the not-quite truth that it wasn't and would need checking again in a couple of minutes in his uniquely affectionate way.

_Choices, choices.._

His lips lingering close to her still, Thane smiled as he breathed a depthful, contemplative, "Hmmmmm..." before relaxing again by her side on their bed and gazing out, as he had been doing since she'd settled there, across her form. Stretched out on her stomach at his side, she was all pale, firm skin and inky hair; the former warmed by the room's raised ambient temperature and the latter laying in loose, band-caused curls about her shoulders. Her arms cuddled the pillow she had beneath her head..her long legs stretched out, one bent comfortably at the knee..and, but for one teasing little section of the blue-purple blanket she reclined upon that lapped at the back of her calf, she was gloriously, gloriously naked.

The choice was foregone, of course.

"Not _quite_ yet" he mused, a flirtatious lilt to his tone, "I shall check again in a moment."

Shepard didn't know whether to groan with frustration or wriggle for joy at the prospect. She'd barely moved since laying down, her trip into the washroom lasting only as long as it took her to encounter both the shower and a razor - the former to aid the application of the latter and the latter to ensure that Mordin's ointment met skin in all the places it had to in order to work right - and had absolutely no intention of altering that state of affairs by doing anything more than shifting gleefully in place as her beau did his checking.

It was his right, all told.

He had, after she'd emerged from the washroom with ointment-pot and cloth in hand, taken it upon himself to rub the purposefully left smudges of slick and oily pinkish salve into her skin, so it was understandable that he'd want to ensure that he'd done a good job. And if doing that entailed driving her wild as she clutched at her pillow and tried her damnedest not to moan like a wanton, that was completely fine by her.

More than fine.

Hell, the only thing that could've made her situation any _more_ fine would've been to return the favour, but Thane had been a _particular_ kind of adamant that her skin be properly tended to before they allowed the evening to take its natural course, and teasing as that may have seemed to the outsider - his being allowed to enjoy her body and to kindle in it the beginnings of keen, keen pleasure while denying her the same freeness with his own - Shepard wasn't so sure.

She had a notion.

Her mate had always been a thoughtful, giving lover, and that thoughtfulness had redoubled in a very specific manner as his illness began to worsen. He used to wait, his own pleasure secondary to ensuring hers in ways that did not require his body to be in top working order, until he was sure whether or not it would betray him. Until he knew either way, he had been reticent to allow her to try and pleasure him..the embarrassment of not reacting to her doubling, she guessed, if it occurred when she was actually trying to rouse him..but once he was sure he would act accordingly - either going on to sate her regardless of the betrayal, her touch remaining banned for the duration, or making love with her if said betrayal didn't occur.

Now, she couldn't say with any kind of certainty that any of that was even half relevant to her present circumstances. She couldn't say that her love's adamancy about her not touching him intimately at present was anything other than him being concerned about her skin. But equally she couldn't discount the possibility that his old wait-and-see tactic - even with his health returning steadily and his body having, but for occasional tiredness, regained its most intimate capacities - had remained in much the way her copings had.

Tacitly.

Quietly.

And, by her, understood.

Not much _liked_, but always understood.

Though they still rattled in the back of her mind now, said copings had not come back to the fore after she'd banished them earlier. Her self-reminders.._don't rush_.._don't assume anything_.._follow his lead_..were now the only vestiges of anything even close to worry in her, and as she had earlier she heeded them without a second thought; allowing her mate to pace out the proceedings however he pleased, wait-and-see policy or not, and doing her best, impetuous libido be-damned, not to go with her gut (and her _loins_) and simply pounce for him. If his seeming focus on her _was_ a product of that policy and not merely a mixture of prudence and honest enjoyment of having her at his mercy..which it could have been, no question..that would only end in discomfort, and discomfort was second only to the Reapers in her unwelcome stakes right now.

"Is it dry yet?" she asked again, handing her beau the metaphorical reins as best she could and glancing back over her shoulder, giving him an almost pleading look as she did so - eyes dancing with enjoyment and flirtatiousness; lips open slightly in a smile. He smiled back, and luckily for the impetuousness in her leant yet again across her body, selecting a spot between her shoulder blades for his next affection.

"Let us see.." he murmured, nuzzling gently and then kissing the area, delighting in how her muscles flexed beneath her skin as she fought to keep still. Her head dropped onto her pillow, and words were gasped as another was given just below the first..

"Oh my.."

..and again, a muffled..

"..God Thane.."

..as his lips lingered over her skin before gifting a third.

She'd never admit it aloud, but her back had always been her weakness and her mate knew it.

Fingers replaced the touch of his lips then, tracing the length of her spine before a hand, warm but not as so as her skin, settled against the small of her back - the place that, but for her lower-tummy, she knew her beau favoured most about her body. It was the confluence, he'd said once, of a number of parts of her that in Drellish terms translated as feminine - her back, her rear, and her hips - and she both had been and was now in no shape to doubt his assessment. What she was more than well equipped to do though was understand the meaning behind that touch. While waiting for the ointment to dry he hadn't been willing to touch her skin, outside of the softest of kisses, for fear of irritating it.

But now..

"Well?" she prompted in her best coy manner, arching her back quite purposefully and dropping a shoulder as she glanced around at him again. "Is it dry?"

Thane's eyes followed the dip of her spine all the way up to her shoulders before they met hers, the new and sonorous rumble he'd been making at intervals since she'd rejoined him with cloth and ointment-pot echoing up from his chest. He hadn't told her what it was meant to convey, but she didn't need him to. Drellish herself or not, she knew desire when she heard it, and knew it all the more when her love moved and knelt over her, his knees and hands either side of her a moment before he eased an arm beneath her, the other still beside her to take his weight, and drew her up against his body.

For a long, blissful moment she was flush against him - up on her hands and knees; hips low and cradled by his; weight partially taken by the arm about her; his nose and lips against the back of her neck and that rumble becoming like thunder, ebbing and flowing as he breathed - and much as her instincts _howled_ for her to rock her hips up into his still damnably cloth-covered ones..to try and tease..to coax..she didn't. She pressed into him as firmly as he did her, certainly, but otherwise she listened to her self-reminders, calmed the fiery flutterbys in her belly as best she could and simply spoke her most personal truth..

"I love you"

..while again making sure that the reins remained with him. His response at first came out staccato, so deep was that vocalisation of his, and the intelligible repetition of it, "I love you" was more a purr than anything else. It took six deep, slow breaths for him to settle his voice enough to add with even a modicum of normality..

"And to your question, yes. I believe it is"

..his words drawing from his mate a beat of delighted laughter.

"Good job too" she quipped, taking a long breath herself and arching slowly, gently into him; the gesture conveying the comparatively tender, inviting, _I'm yours to do with as you wish_ over the presently to-be-approached-with-care _You're mine to do with as I wish_. "I was beginning to worry."

Thane chuckled, easing both himself and his Siha into a comfortable kneel; her back to his belly, his arms about her and knees either side of her right one so they might both have space enough to settle. "Oh?" he queried, resisting the urge to let his hands wander lower on her body than they already were. Although he knew that human customs regarding the lower-stomach were different to those of his people, he found it difficult not to think of her as a fellow Drell. Not because he wished she were one. Not at all. Rather, simply because of the familiarity they shared.

The closeness of what he would call their souls.

Thus, his fingers did not wander any lower than the daring stroke of a thumb to the indentation of her navel, the closest one could get to without actually encountering the beginnings of a Drell's most intimate reaches, and he tilted his head a fraction as she spoke words that almost shattered that resolve.

"All these scales.." she mused softly, meeting his eyes as he caught them over her shoulder, her hands finding his and settling upon them welcomingly. "Your scales. I've missed them. Missed you.." She gave his wrists a gentle squeeze, her fingertips lingering on their insides - another area upon the Drellish form that is reserved for flirtation, if not for lovers proper - as she impressed her point, "This..", and caught the kiss he gave her lips as if she'd known it was coming. They traded three like that, three careful little kisses that were chaste enough that there was no risk of her losing her head in the heat of the moment, and as they did Thane's once stationary right hand moved north, not south, to settle, after tender knuckles stroked in both request and greeting, upon the yielding softness of her left breast; his left remaining where it was upon her midriff, embracing her as she leant into him.

She hummed softly at the former touch, though more in welcome than pleasure of an overtly sexual kind. Intimate as it was and although his fingers moved, flexing gently, they made no move to squeeze or massage the flesh they were settled upon, and through the gentle pressure she could feel from the heel of his hand where it lay between breast and breastbone, she deduced his underlying intent in seeking to touch her where he did. The breast itself was of little consequence to him, much as he loved it for its being part of her. It simply wasn't naturally alluring to him, lacking in such things as female Drell are.

But the heart he could feel beating beneath it?

That allured.

That was of consequence.

That was what he truly wanted to feel, to memorise through his touch, and she smiled and gave a soft sigh against his lips as her mind went back to times past in which he had spent hours over numerous, restful evenings with an ear nestled precisely where his hand now lay; learning her and, in a sense, taking her into himself in ways she'd never thought possible before she knew him.

The memory of that moment, of him nuzzling into her and closing his eyes to listen, remained with her until their lips parted and he spoke, his voice made rich by their intimacy and the hum-buzz that marked his affection for her. "As I did you" he said, leaning then and guiding her head around and to the side with the gentle press of frill to cheekbone. The side of her neck now exposed to him, he brushed a kiss beside the spot where jaw and throat meet, speaking as she gasped - listing her virtues..

"Your skin.."

..between suckling kisses..

"Your scent.."

..that meandered..

"Your warmth..Gods your _warmth_.."

..as her breaths shortened and she leant into him more firmly, down towards her shoulder..

"The very sight of you.."

..and were accented..

"Your voice.."

..by a practiced squeeze of the hand that was cupped upon her breast. Unexpected as it was it drew a hitched breath and a half-muffled moan from Shepard, her lips pressing tightly together as she fought to keep the warmth that had long since begun to pool and collect within her from throwing her resolve to let him lead out the damn airlock, and he mimicked the sound, his ear for pitch near-perfect, before taking a breath and requesting, "Turn to me? I wish to embrace you properly" as she smiled and made to glance around at him.

The words, much as his touch had, made her breath catch in her throat.

For all it sounded like a banal request, she knew better; knew him, and his people, and quite what was implied by his asking to embrace her properly during this, the beginning of their intimate reacquaintance. It was, in Drellish terms, the initiation of the only really mandatory step that partners would take as they sought once again to become lovers in the physical sense after a protracted time apart; the giving, through a gesture - an embrace during which bare stomach is touched to bare stomach - of permission to carry on.

To take things further.

Quite how much further was still up for debate..still up to the outcome of his wait-and-see, if indeed he was being mindful of it at all..but a spike of adrenaline coursed right through Shepard regardless, and it was all she could do not to whip around and scoot the required inches forth the moment she was asked to. By some miracle of restraint though she stopped herself, the practical side of her nudging her forward enough that she could not only give her beau a rather astounding view of all of the Drellishly alluring parts of her body that he so coveted, but also enough time and space to, quite purposefully and as she watched over her shoulder, unhook the top four of the five little pearl buttons that held his sleeping-trousers closed.

Barely an inch of naked scale was exposed by the movement, that last button keeping him just about modest, but still it took the arrival of gentle fingers upon her chin to break Shepard's gaze from it. She blinked, flushing faintly at the knowing smirk on Thane's face and easing herself around to face him front-on, as requested. His fingers lingered upon her jaw for a long moment, stroking it lovingly, and as they did she caught brief flickers of the carrying-on of an internal debate, the source of which she couldn't place, in his eyes. Her instinct was to ask about it..to ask if he was ok..if this, what could turn out to be a deeply intimate exchange, was ok..but it was gone and he was drawing her close before she could, and with every inch that disappeared between them his momentary pause mattered less.

_It was a memory_, she told herself. _A memory of a time just like this, long ago. Let it be. Let it go._

And she did. She forgot his contemplative turn and instead focussed on the now; on how close he was; on how his gaze, his regard, made her feel like the most wanted woman alive; on how powerful he looked still, even after months and months of bed rest and all the hell he'd been through; on his scent, warm and clean and very Drellish, very _Thane_; and most especially on how his hands took hers and guided them onto the now loosened waist of all that kept him decent and her chancing for a glimpse of what lay so tantalisingly out of sight.

In that moment, and at nothing more than the thought of helping her mate undress, her throat went as dry as a Saharan lakebed. As before though, despite how she wanted him, she couldn't rush; couldn't just tear the boundary down and be done with it. The tease it presented, the demure flashes of naked scale it allowed her to see, titillated her, and so it was with great restraint..great slowness..great appreciation for the feeling of anticipation..that she began the task her beau had implied she was welcome to by slipping the very tips of her fingers between cloth and scale and drawing them in a slow circle from the front of his abdomen to the dip of his spine - revelling, as the inches were traversed and she eased herself all the closer to him, in how the slightly softer, larger scales on his upper-torso became smaller and less giving the further she travelled away from them.

As her hands flattened at the small of his back and began a slow ascent towards his shoulders, his own returned to her..one settling between her shoulder blades and the other upon the flare of her left hip..and he watched her face, watched want..wonder even..flicker through her expression as she explored him and he her. They spent a long moment like that..their hands moving with the appreciative slowness of newly reunited lovers, unwilling to push things forward before they'd had their fill of _now_..and then her hands reversed course, moving down over his rear to give an amorous squeeze and to tug gently in question at the loosened cloth covering it.

_May I?_

His answer came through the return of that new and sonorous rumble of his; a 'Yes' that sounded more like 'Yehs' and that was followed by a kiss that sent her fingers scrambling for the modesty protecting button upon his garb. It was lower, this one, low enough that his breath hitched when her fingers found and manipulated it - their presence felt keenly by still covered skin that was starved for their touch - but it fell like the others had and then, her hands and breath quaking faintly with excitement, she reached for him.

Reached..but not for the areas protected by that last button.

Her aim was higher - as it had to be if she was to avoid making the _**cataclysmic**_ social faux pas of handling a newly returned lover's intimate places (outside of an accidental brush while undoing a button) without having been given the expected permission - her hands slipping beneath the cloth that lay about his waist before moving down and guiding it along with her. Loosening, shifting, coaxing, the material was eased away, but got no further than allowing her an unabridged view of her love's lower-stomach..the scales upon it getting up to about the size of an old Australian cent-piece and easing into, from two inches or so below his navel, the beginnings of the slowly widening vertical line of ruddy pleats that led down to and covered everything about him that that last little button existed to hide..before he was gathering her in and shifting on his knees so that she could slip between them, wrap her arms about him, and press every inch of naked skin she could against his form.

In that moment, her eyes closed and head tucked against his neck as they embraced and pressed into each other, she was all feeling. From how tightly he held her to him, to the softness of his cheeks and lips where they nuzzled against her neck, to how depthful his breathing was and how, perhaps most keenly, she could feel the beginnings of arousal..of muted firmness..in the pleating that was nestled against the comparatively soft skin on her lower-tummy.

Everything was tactile.

Everything was within reach, and she ached.._ached_ to seek it out. To let her fingers run rampant and slip beneath the fabric still swathing her mate's hips. To find all that was beneath and cup and caress and love in all the ways she so wanted to. Needed to. And she would..but not without his unequivocal nod that that was the kind of further intimacy he was seeking. Her self-reminders demanded caution, and they were right. The reins were Thane's, and grabbing at him was off the menu unless he decided otherwise.

..

Actions that might make her want to grab at him a little clearer though..certainly weren't.

Pulling in a deep breath against her love's scales, she gave his torso a wanting though tender squeeze before raising her head and tilting it to his. His nose, eyes and lips were still well hidden between her shoulder and neck, but he was not so lost in the moment that he didn't respond when her hands began dipping lower along his back and then cupped his now more-or-less bared rear. It wasn't a gasp he gave in response..no..more like a long breath in through the mouth that she was sure carried a vocalisation her ears missed completely, and as she curled her fingers through an appreciative squeeze his hips canted forward and his embrace tightened. A word then..her word..

"Siha.."

..was purred as his head rose, his cheek drawn against hers as he sought her eyes. They were hooded, as his were, and she hummed in her throat with appreciation for him before replying with a breathy, "Whatever you need", and sharing with him the kiss they simply had to; one of greeting almost, of acknowledgement of the moment, in the midst of it as they were. It was a soft thing, lingering and gentle, and had only just ended when Thane, heeding her words, began a second. A third came after that, then a fourth, this one echoed by another of his low, wanting rumbles and a proclamation..

"I would show you. I would have you _know_"

..that carried said rumble's echo and was so ardent..so desirous and full of promise that the fact that he hadn't specified with words precisely what he wanted to express, to have her know, mattered for nothing. As she had come to be able to with the hum-buzz that conveyed his 'I love you', she knew now what he was telling her without needing to hear the words.

_I would show you how I want you_, he was saying.

_I would have you __**know**_.

And with that, the flutterbys in her belly doubled their numbers. They made her breath short as she spoke the only response she rightly could..

"Show me"

..and then her mate's hands were cradling her jaw as he gave her another little kiss and guided her towards the head of the bed and the bank of pillows there. They sank down into it together, she onto her back and he, once his sleeping-trousers had been properly shucked off, atop her, and as she gathered him in with all four of her limbs - her arms about his shoulders, knees fencing around his hips - and a sigh, blissful and slow, escaped his lips, she had to wonder, truly wonder, if there was any better feeling in the galaxy than holding him thus. Than feeling him relax into her after so long, so much pain and so many trials. She thought not, and Thane, tucked snugly against his love's body, heartily agreed with her.

There was nothing else in his world in that moment.

Nothing but the softness of her skin..the warmth of her breath against his lips..his cheeks..the feeling of her thighs, powerful yet so giving as they shifted to accommodate him, adjusting as he curled against her..of her hands coming up and cradling his skull as they shared yet another kiss, and, perhaps most singularly, most distractingly of all, how he could feel upon his lower pleats the telltale heat of her arousal.

The sensation sent a spike of desire and pride through him - desire for the heat itself and pride for having caused it..having earned it - and as he gazed down upon her, her eyes dark with desire, lips moist from their kisses, that instinctive yearning for her redoubled and quickened him; his want..no.._need_..to show her how he wanted her..how he loved her..prompting movement that was met at first with a questioning word.

"Thane?"

Her hands caught his upper arms and clenched slightly as he began to rise, confused as she was by his seeming retreat from her, and he understood. Indeed, he would have felt the same himself had their positions been reversed - he laying supine beneath her while she, confusing she, sat up a hint from his embrace and put unwanted inches..and it was only, only inches..between them. As he leant to her though, his weight on his forearms, nose and lips lingering close to press a kiss upon her chin..then a second beside it on her jaw..and then a third beside that, this one given with a whisper.."Sshh..I would love you"..close to her ear..confusion became understanding and, her every speculation about his wait-and-see and its potential outcome dying away, she arched into him, tilting her head to bare her throat to him and invite him to continue.

This was nothing of retreat.

Nothing of leaving or moving away.

This was the antithesis, she knew; the preparatory step before _love making_.

A thready sigh escaped her as his kisses moved on, her eyes fluttering closed at that he suckled so gently, so carefully, to the pulse point beneath her jaw. Another two would follow it, one upon the very centre of her throat and the other at the hollow it made where it met her collarbones, and as she had moments prior she cradled his head in her hands, returning the affection as best she could by tracing gentle fingertips along and between the ridges decorating his skull.

Further still he moved then, shifting against her again and down another count of inches so that her breast bone and each breast might be given the same attention as her throat - wet, suckling kisses for the length of the former while the latter received, along with the return of gentle fingers upon each to caress and massage, a special, supremely tender kiss to their respective arousal-peaked tips. She made no move to stymie him this time, her focus riveted instead on keeping the oxygen flowing and making sure that she provided him with whatever it was he needed from her..safe passage along her body most assuredly included..and she gave him a beatific smile of affection and encouragement when, as his head rose from his devotions at her breast to nuzzle at and then kiss the insides of each of her arms, he met her eyes.

They remained thus for a long moment, still again despite their want for each other, and she reached, her beau's head leaning as she did, to trace the dark splotch of blackish-green upon his brow. He bowed his head into her fingers at the contact, a hum-buzz conveying the 'I love you' he didn't need to speak, and returned her smile as she replied with the now customary..

"I love you back"

..before his focus was again on her body.

Onto her ribs a hand was settled, fingertips feeling for and counting each they came across and then spanning out between them on her upper torso where bone gave way to muscle beneath firm skin. His kisses followed their path, each rib receiving its own affection before he was easing down another few inches so that the next could land, as his hands, both now, came to rest against and caress her waist, just below her navel. Another followed right below it, and Thane glanced up again to catch his love's eyes as a third came, yet again, below that.

The look was more a polite warning than a request..more a 'Watch me, I mean not to startle you' than a, 'May I carry on?'..and Shepard did watch..did see..as each new kiss he gave landed beneath the last. She heard too, over the gasping cadence of her breathing, the appreciative rumble he made when he touched his brow to her pubic bone and took a moment to simply breathe her in..and she felt..as his hands slipped down from her waist to stroke along her thighs and guide them apart as he settled..she felt.._everything_.

The soft, warm waft of his breath upon her skin that made her shudder as he leant for her..

The way one of his hands grasped her hip and the other flattened on her lower-stomach to steady her..

And most of all..the honest-to-goodness, literal, as if he was kissing her on the mouth kiss..complete with the careful suckle of full, wanting lips..that was pressed to the very apex of her thighs.

Her hands scrambled for purchase on something..anything..as he lingered there, kissing her twice more in that same spot before embarking on a slow, steady, southward journey. He gifted the delicate folds he encountered with kisses of their own as he made his way towards the true source of the heat he was so proud of lighting in her, and she..trembling, moaning she..found the blanket they reclined upon and grasped it in tight fists as she fought to keep still for him.

The fight though, really speaking, was one she couldn't help but lose.

With every kiss he gave she squirmed and shuddered. With every suckle, a moan escaped. Every flick of his tongue sent her head back into the pillows, her body arching, shifting against his hands. He knew it so well..a product of perfect memory as much as their penchant for _practice_..that he seemed able to read every flutter of muscle..every arch or twitch she made..and adjust according to what it told him she needed. It was maddening, beauteous, decadent as all hell and with every touch, every kiss, every ounce of pressure he pressed into her to keep her still and every one of her moans that he echoed with an encouraging rumble, she could feel herself slipping towards a sudden and inevitable end.

And that..that was something she knew she had to resist.

She knew for it had always been their preference in instances where they planned to make love (which, going on Thane's sultry 'I would love you', was the plan now) to experience their respective ends during the act itself and not before, and so to allow herself to go with the flow now so to speak..to let go and just..give in to his expertise..would be the farthest thing from _following his lead_ she could do.

Thus, she held off. Fought herself and the flutterbys meandering through her system and focussed instead on what the near future would bring - on the fact that he would soon be making love to her in the fullest, most complete sense.

The very thought was intoxicating.

Intoxicating and, in a sense, matched by life for it was in that moment, right when she was distracted and needful, that she felt the very tips of her love's fingers follow the path his lips had taken and then forge deeper than he had before, curving upwards after about an inch and caressing her from within.

..

And with that movement..that purposeful, knowing curling of fingers.._holding off_ went **right** out the airlock as a concept.

There was no more of that she could do. No fighting herself into order or suppressing the need to roll her hips into the steady rhythm those caressing fingers began to take. No holding back when the sudden and inevitable engulfed her and sent her world to lights. And certainly no coherent thoughts as she quaked with its passing, her body nothing more than its postscript. Its accessory.

Minutes passed for her like this. Minutes with nothing but her beau's presence, his embrace about her waist, the gentle press of his brow into her tummy and the warm, tingling satiation that was left in his wake. When the endorphins had settled though..once her breathing calmed and her mind cleared..she regained her critical faculties enough to look back on what had just happened to her in question. In question and, after she'd had a moment to stew on the fact that she wasn't quite sure why what she'd expected, on good authority, to be nothing more than a preparatory step had become so much more, in concern. The idea that he may have simply wanted to indulge her didn't stand a chance in that formative instant, and questions..

Did I read his intent wrong?

Did I miss a hint he gave before?

Did he _tire_ as he's warned me he does on occasion?

Was his pause earlier on one of concern for that, not a memory?

And if it was, and he did tire, is he ok with that? Or does the fact that he's still nestled against my stomach mean he's mortified?

..all of which found their roots in the thoughts she'd entertained earlier about his habits concerning intimacy and what those habits existed to compensate for, flooded her mind.

As they came and went, silent but indelible and demanding of her attention, she stared up at the skylight and the arm of the Citadel she could see through it and let out a slow, calming breath while grasping for a tactful way of feeling out how her mate was doing. After a rough minute's contemplation, she settled on asking him..maybe using words like, "You feeling as good as I am right now?"..and drew breath to do so when Thane, roused by the movement of her body through that breath, rose up from his spot at her stomach and crawled, the scales and pleats upon his brushed with great purpose against her inner thigh and lower-stomach, into her arms. And that movement..that crawl..that _brush_..silenced her questions and took every worry she had for his wellbeing conclusively out of her hands.

She was still trying not to give away her shock when his brow touched hers and he gave a deep, slow sigh of utter and complete satisfaction; the feeling of his manhood..beginning to firm proper as it rested against the kiss and desire moistened skin he had been tending to..so absorbing of her attention that it took words, an adoring though _distinctly_ bassy..

"My love"

..to snap her focus back front and centre.

Her reply, "I love you", was quick and entirely instinctual, Thane's Drellish repetition of precisely that sentiment rumbling through him as they shared a kiss that drew her, even newly sated and a mite rattled, to arch into him with the same want she knew he felt for her. The movement jarred a groan from him, and she matched it, gasping coaxingly against his lips as the want to seek out and caress all those areas upon him that were now pressed so intimately against her came back to the fore. As before though, she couldn't just grab. Couldn't just roll atop him and _fondle_. To be comfortable in her own mind that the reins were his she had to ask - to suggest going further as an option for him to either take or not take - and she did the moment she could gather enough fast moving breath to make doing so feasible.

"And I want you. And I would _show_ you" she said, using the words he had, her voice tender and wanting at once, "just like you did me. Just like that, and then.."

Charmed by her words and her pause, Thane had to press, "And then?" The question was curious and low, and her response..

"And then I want you to make love to me"

..both rang with a need that he couldn't ignore and was appended by words..

"Is that all right with you?"

..that he didn't..quite..expect.

He blinked at hearing them, covering his surprise by pressing back gently when his love's hand moved up along his back to cup his neck while he pondered her words. Having always been a deeply perceptive man by nature, he'd had an inkling as soon as she expressed concern about his once having flinched from her touch that she would bend herself in knots trying to ensure his comfort. That had been her way during their last months together, and he knew her too well to think that even a change of circumstances as massive as theirs would remove the habit completely.

But this?

Requesting of him what was rightfully hers?

What he so desired..so wanted to share with her?

He could understand the logic, certainly. He would have been equally careful had their positions been reversed, equally intent on ensuring she was certain, and mindful..as he knew she was of his..of her comfort throughout the experience. That empathy though didn't make the fact that, when compared to the ease they had shared with each other prior to his health failing him, his mate was on virtual tenterhooks when it came to making her desires known to him any more comfortable to acknowledge. Such things spoke of stress that she had no need to carry, and he sought to ease it and reassure her in the best way he could think to.

With a dash of witty commentary on the truth of his situation.

"That is not a question you need ever ask" he began gently, answering her question with a resolute affirmative before elaborating. "You have all of me, Siha. My heart..my soul..my body. Every fibre..every flaw..every part..but one."

"What's that?" Shepard asked, worry again flickering to life in her gut despite all the evidence she had of her beau's comfort. Gladly, he didn't keep her waiting for long. He lent for her ear instead, letting her see his smile before he named that which he couldn't promise her in a whisper..

"My stamina"

..that jogged from her a soft gasp of comprehension and a chuckle of relief-tinged mirth.

The former came because she knew now, hearing him, why he had been so thorough in his treatment of her. Sure of his body's responsiveness or not and besides the fact that he likely just wanted to be, he hadn't known whether responsiveness alone (lacking in a certain _resilience_ as he presently was) would make their favoured method of love making as enjoyable for her as it rightly should be. Proactive efforts to ensure that enjoyment were therefore very much warranted, and not in the least bit indicative, as she'd feared they were, of his body having failed him.

And the latter?

The latter escaped for she knew from knowing him that if he was comfortable enough to jest about a topic, said topic wasn't bothering him, and felt soothed enough by that knowledge that her reply, spoken after they shared a kiss as he drew back to catch her eyes, carried a lovingly teasing and openly flirtatious note.

"I'll be careful."

It was precisely the response Thane had been hoping for.

Not only did it imply that his attempt to reassure her had worked, but it also gave him the perfect platform to cement that reassurance; to remove from her the uncertainty that had so discomforted him to see her go through. It was he, he knew, who had sown its seed in her when he thrust her hands from his body during their last fraught attempt at intimacy, and while he did not resent himself for having done so precisely..born of massive, massive stress and emotional rancour as the moment had been..he knew that its resolution, no matter how his love had spoken of their both being blameless for it, would need to come from him. Thus, he spoke..

"I trust you to be"

..before moving to carefully arrange he and his love so that they lay face to face amid the pillows that had begun to spill around them. With great purpose then, he gathered her right hand in his left, squeezing it affectionately before quite simply, quite easily guiding its fingers onto the ruddy pleating on his lower-stomach; replacing them in precisely the spot he had once cast them from in boiling anger and self-recrimination.

The moment's import plain to her, Shepard stilled instantly.

She'd known, of course, that he trusted her.

She couldn't not.

It was the little things that were most telling. The weight of his gaze as he looked upon her. How relaxed he was in her arms. How, at times, he would close his eyes and keep them so, releasing his ever watchful guard of both his person and his surroundings to her. All of these things..things that he couldn't consciously control and that, especially where his guard was concerned, went against his training in small ways..were indicative of his trust and confidence in her.

But this..

This was a conferral even her most deeply rooted copings couldn't touch with uncertainty, and it only got more weighty, more meaningful for her when, added to the words themselves, 'I trust you', and the pointed placement of her fingers, he pressed them fast where they lay and then moved his away to stroke her arm, her side and her neck, giving her free rein to explore him.

Inordinately touched, she couldn't but oblige.

Firm and textured but not rough by any means, the pleating gave precious little as she caressed it - the pad of her thumb moving gently left to right as her fingers eased along in appreciative half-inches - but it was sensitive still, and she could feel her mate warring with himself at her attentions; fighting, as she had, with even breaths and tense muscles, to keep still and let her do as she pleased.

He did admirably.

Much better than she had all told.

But as she neared the very bottom, the area where his tummy-pleats and the base of his manhood met, he couldn't silence the wanting rumble that ebbed up on his exhalation any more than he could keep himself from firming further or flexing his hips towards her when he felt careful fingers encircle said base to take their first proper feel of him in too, too long. His breath hitched at the sensation, the lowest reaches of the manhood, particularly nearer the underside, being deeply erogenous for all male Drell, and he caught her in a kiss as her fingers gave a stroke from there to the tapered tip and back; relearning the lay of his most intimate pleats with the same gentle attention to detail he had shown her most tender places.

They spent long moments thus..Thane's knee coming to rest against his mate's hip as she caressed him, his hips arching forward when her fingers lingered and massaged the pleating nearest his body..before movement again took them; Shepard guiding him onto his back and settling, her hands and lips finding the firm scales and muscle below his ribs, between his thighs. And he could only stare, wide-eyed..only wonder if he had inspired her and try and keep the oxygen flowing..as kisses rained down upon his abdomen in a slowly descending, ragged line which saw each become more full, more wet, than the last. The ones gifted to the pleats on his lower-stomach were especially so, having taken on a soft suckling quality, and those to his manhood..

..

The feeling..

The sight of them being given..

Of the delicate tip disappearing for a brief, scorchingly erotic moment, between her lips..

It knocked his breath clean from him and sent his hands reaching for her; powerful though gentle fingers winding through her hair, clenching with great restraint as each kiss was given. The touch was not meant to guide..to push her further onto him or move her away. He could manage nothing so complex at present and had no wish to regardless. It was for contact only. To feel her moving, shifting as he did while she kissed him _so_ thoroughly, and when her next affection came, after a slow stroke, just below the tip, he couldn't but rasp her name..

"Aaaaaami.."

..through a ragged exhalation as his head arched back into the pillows.

A breath was her reply, released through a smile and felt, warm and tempting, over his groin. Had their circumstances been different..had her beau not warned her of how easily he might be overwhelmed..she would have taken him properly into her mouth again, but she did not. The next of her kisses was instead placed below the one preceding it, and was accented with a gentle suckle of lips to pleats that earned her both the reflexive clench of the fingers in her hair and a guttural rumble of pleasure from its shuddering recipient.

Then, in place of a kiss, she gave another slow stroke, and glanced up, when the weight of his gaze returned from its brief absence among the pillows, to see her mate watching her. In that moment..that brief pause..his thumb moved to caress her cheek and she leant into the contact, turning slightly so that she could nuzzle her nose and lips against the heel of his hand. Giving that place her next kiss, and the one following that to the inside of his wrist, she slowed her more intimate ministrations consciously and took a moment to look upon him.

To look and see him, sleek and powerful..all painless breaths and relaxed (if trembling) comfort amid blanket and pillows and her..looking back at her with equal interest..equal want..equal affection.

The sight warmed her through, and she returned the smile he gave her before glancing down to watch as her hands, one moving from beside him where it had been taking her weight as she leant and the other from its place upon his manhood, came to rest on the scales either side of the pleating on his tummy. They left hardly a dent for their presence, muscular as he was, and roamed from there first down to his hips where they gave an appreciative though gentle squeeze, and then further, onto the insides of his thighs where open palms were allowed to rest and give a slow, upwards caress towards his groin.

A resonant, loving, "Siha.." escaped Thane as he watched her, his fingers moving to stroke her ear and then quickly finding their way back into her hair as hers marked both her abandonment of _slow _and their return to his manhood with a feathery caress upon each of its sides. Her focus was on the pleats on its upper half now, where she traced their very slightly ridged edges with gentle fingertips before another of those maddening, delicate suckles was given. With each he gasped..or groaned..or shuddered, his thighs twitching about her, and he allowed her this until..after a caress fell lower than he'd been expecting and sent his world, for a brief second, to lights..his stamina reached its limit and he moved to gently, carefully guide her away from her devotions and back, after their eyes met and he mouthed the word, "More" in both question and request, into his arms.

They moved together then..Thane sitting up and leaning into the pillows, his hands coming up to steady his mate as she straddled his lap..and, after aiding with her fingers a teasing stroke of his tip against her opening and providing, from the bedside draw, the customary prophylactic (to spare her inner-skin potential irritation, not prevent biologically impossible pregnancies) she caught his eye and, with a smoothness and ease that belied how she truly wanted him, guided him into her body.

And the feeling..

Her eyes fell closed at it..the new-old fullness and the welcome, natural stretch of wanting skin around wanting skin..and she needed..Gods above how she needed him to move.

To find a rhythm..

..

But he didn't.

The very moment her body was flush to his, he lurched up and wrapped his arms around her, clasping her so tightly against him that she could barely move. His brow pressed into her neck, his breath came short and choppy against it, and the tension in him was so great that she worried at first that she'd somehow hurt him. That she'd caught him wrong and bruised or chaffed somewhere that would appreciate neither of those happenings. When she embraced him though, shifting all she could and gentling the once-cling she'd taken about his shoulders to caress the back of his neck in what she hoped was a soothing manner, his breath hitched and an impassioned moan escaped..and with that not only did her worries ease but the desire that had been bubbling longingly within her since her fall to ecstasy flared with renewed vigour.

This was not pain she was seeing.

This was her beau, her Thane, fighting himself back from the very brink.

Across his shoulder, she pinched her eyes closed and grinned mightily. She couldn't help herself. For all his talk of lacking stamina, and all her worries about making sure all was well, here they were. Together, quite literally. And even though he was obviously close..obviously struggling with himself and therefore conclusively not up for drawing the experience out as they'd once loved to..she was frankly ecstatic.

The potential brevity of their union meant absolutely nothing to her.

The fact that it was even possible was more than enough.

Nuzzling her nose and lips as gently as she could to her love's frill while focussing on remaining as still as he seemed to need her to, she resolved, as he clung to her - every fibre of his being focused on keeping away from the tantalising brink his body was fixed on tumbling over - to do what he had so often done for her in times past and make this moment and all that followed about his pleasure, less her own. Doing that though, she knew, would require his attention, and she sought to earn it by whispering..

"Thane?"

..in her gentlest, most loving tone against his ear. When he barely twitched in response, she repeated herself and added a request..

"Thane, look at me"

..and then..then he moved, his head raising so that he could meet her gaze. Seeing his eyes fogged with desire and the constant, wrenching focus it took to keep from succumbing to it, she smiled and gave him a kiss of the utmost tenderness; her hands coming up to cup his jaw as he returned it in the hope of guiding him into a second. Before she could though, he spoke, his words strained and carrying a warning..

"I will _not_ last"

..that did nothing to discourage her. Her kiss instead was given after he spoke, to the very edge of his lips, and was as soft and coaxing as her response..

"So don't last."

..

And that was the final nudge - but for the equally soft though soothing, "It's ok" she breathed when his gaze grew a hint unsure..a hint wary of his stamina failing him _too_ quickly - her mate needed.

Before she'd fully realised what was happening, she felt their blanket at her back..Thane's speed and strength making their change in position so fluid that they lost not a half inch of contact between them..and she had a moment of simply revelling in his weight, his presence, before he was moving in earnest; short, sharp thrusts speaking of great need as clearly as the speed of his breath and the deep, thunder-like rumble that eased into and out of her range as his passion ebbed and flowed. And when it reached its zenith and he tensed, groaning his release against her neck, the fact that she did not follow him into bliss a second time, wanting and piqued as her body was, was the last thing on her mind.

It mattered less than the thought of brevity had moments prior.

What was important to her now was that she could hold him as completion made him as helpless as it had her. That she could feel his muscles flex and twitch as it rolled through him. That his breaths came short but smooth and easy and how, after their eyes met as he was coming down from his peak and they shared a loving, tremulous kiss, she, with three gentle words..

"Do it again"

..saw his face contort with ecstasy and felt his embrace about her renew as he heeded her.

Not literally of course.

There was no miraculous second release for him, but there _was_ the memory of the first, recalled as he might at the behest of a Drellish partner who would do the same along with him. The practice, she'd learnt long back during one of their numerous talks about their respective peoples, was a way for lovers to bond during their intimate time together..the recollection redoubling the moment's impact as only perfect memory can allow for..and, her shortcomings in that department be-damned, the experience was one she would never deny Thane. It was something he found entirely natural after all, and even though she couldn't follow him into recollections and feel again the pleasure of the recent past, she could help him through his experience..hold him as he arched and shuddered..gasp as he did, as she had in the moment..kiss him when he sought her lips and gather him, as he came back to himself, dazed and doubly tired for the repetition, into her embrace to rest until he had calmed enough to return his focus outwards.

On this occasion, that lull was almost ten minutes long.

Exhausted as he was by the day and its trials, and then more so by the evening's course, Thane only managed movement when his body jolted itself awake from the light nap it had decided he needed. It irked him at first, the fact that he'd dropped off like that without even a by your leave for his Siha, but as he came aware of his surroundings he began to empathise with how he had just..let go.

He lay, his mate's arms and legs about him, his face burrowed into her neck, beneath, with her, a fold of their blanket that he could only assume she had managed to shuck over them while he slept. He was warm..completely relaxed..sated in a way he hadn't been in over a year..and he could feel, as well as the warmth of her breath and the cadence, slow and calm, of her heartbeat, the caress of the tips of her fingers against his upturned cheek and the welcome weight of her gaze.

It was that, in the end, that made him raise his head. To meet it. To respond to it. To let her see his face as he spoke the Drellish tonal 'I love you' and to kiss her after she spoke the words back with smiling lips and dancing eyes. And that..outside of a very brief sojourn to the washroom for them both and then, on their return to bed and blanket, gathering her body into the curve of his after she had EDI dim the lights, hush the music and lower the ambient temperature to aid rest..was his last proper, focused memory of the evening. Sleep came quickly after they settled, and claimed Thane without a whisker of resistance.

Shepard though?

She blinked it off, despite the fact that her eyes were muzzy and a stage two reaction to Drellish kisses was finally coming on, so that she could have as many minutes as she could keep herself awake for just looking at him.

Marvelling again at her Gods-begotten luck.

In the end, those minutes lasted for over an hour.

And she couldn't have been happier for that if she'd tried.

* * *

><p>And now!<p>

_**Coming in the next chapter**_

A wakeful moment at the beginning of a new day

The sharing of Kolyat's concerns

And the making of a date to see to them


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Greetings all and welcome to chapter 14. I've decided to publish the work I did on this chapter as three separate pieces as it grew rather lengthy, and I didn't want to break my promise (made long back in chapter 6) to keep the chapters at a manageable length by putting up another massive one for you all to grapple with. The remaining two will be up within the next few days. Do tell me what you think about the shorter format. All the detail is there, naturally, just in shorter chunks.

Also! Wonderful news for Thanemancers! An exceptionally talented group of fans are putting together a mod that changes the way his romance plays out in ME3! The fantastic coldwetn0se told me all about it, and I promised to plug the thing til the end of time. If you want to know more, you're welcome to PM me and I'll tell you everything I know thus far.

As always, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Conjecture, reviews, comments and so forth are always welcome.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>Wake<span>

_**A loving aside to poetry is made at the beginning of a new day**_

It was around [09:15] when the first of the engineers tasked with giving the SSV Normandy SR2 a thorough and complete once-over arrived to begin their work; when the crewmen and women who had rolled in after a righteous drinking session the night before began stirring in their bunks and those who hadn't had such a hard time of it departed for the start of their second day of shore leave. In the ship's halls and underbelly, activity reigned. Specialist Traynor handed out orders to the newly arriving technicians. Doctor Chakwas hurried out of the Medical Bay, intent on spending the morning at a market in one of the nearby Wards. On the Bridge, EDI and Joker were having their first genial spat of the day, much to the amusement of the AI, and Garrus, having just had a briefing from Primarch Victus in the War Room, was prowling his way through the CIC towards the main airlock for another day with the refugees in the makeshift camp down in the holding area by the docks.

Everyone, no matter their vocation, origin or destination, was busy to a greater or lesser extent.

..

..

Everyone, that is, bar two.

Up in the Captain's cabin, the morning was beginning at a much, much slower pace; so much so in fact that for its inhabitants, curled together within and beneath the swathe of rippling blue-purple velvet that spread inkblot-like upon their otherwise white bed, it had yet to start at all.

There was no alarm to disturb them.

No noise filtered up from the lower levels.

The room was quiet and still, the bubbling of the fish tank's filters the only real ambience barring the occasional breath or rustle of cloth from the sleepers on the bed. The faint blue glow that the tank's backlights gave off was the only light in the room – the ambient light that would have intruded through the skylight banished thanks to the ever-helpful EDI who, at the Commander's fatigue-muted order just before she'd dropped off to sleep, had drawn its armoured covering to. The air was cool but not uncomfortably so, and all in all the entire situation, but for the absent though ever-desirable scent of a fried breakfast cooking, couldn't have been more perfect as a morning scene.

The clock on the bedside table read [09:37] before anything even resembling wakefulness encroached upon this peace, and when it did it reached Thane as it always had; with long-trained completeness. He went from sleeping to wakeful in the space of a half-breath, though had someone been watching him in that moment they wouldn't have noticed the change. His breathing remained even and slow. He did not tense, shift or jolt. He was silent. Still. Absolutely alert.

And what he perceived through that alertness?

After a sweep of the room to assure himself of its security, it was his mate's rapturous warmth and her skin that first called to him; pressed so completely to him as she was that it was only the fact that she lacked scales and the difference in their respective temperatures – hers being about three degrees higher than his – that convinced him that they were two beings at all. From the back of her right knee where the front of his nestled, to their hips, hers cradled by his, and up all the way to where his arms lay about her, the upper following the curve of hers as closely as his torso did her spine, there was at most and in scant places a centimetre between them.

Nothing more.

The back of her neck was where his nose and lips had come to rest in sleep. Her hair, braided now as it ever was when she slept, was soft upon his cheek and temple, and he decided, taking stock of all this, that he would remain precisely where he was until she woke. It would not be long before she did, he could tell, and he was too relaxed, settled between his love's depthful warmth and the room's relative cool, to do anything but bask and consider as he waited to greet her on this, the beginning of their first full day together since his return, ways in which he might do that to best effect.

A kiss?

_Yes, certainly._

A loving embrace?

_Necessary, without a doubt._

More though? Words perhaps, to express his affection or mark the occasion?

It was a fine idea, but as to what they might be, presently he could only wonder. An _I love you _would be honest, of course, and cherished, naturally..but those words and their most common synonyms were rightly for everyday use, not unique to their first proper morning.

What could he say to convey his feelings for her at such a time?

Mulling over the situation, Thane pressed himself a hint closer to his Siha's back, focusing in on everything there was of her..her heat..the softness of her skin and hair..her scent..searching for inspiration. He even closed his eyes, denying himself his sight so that he might focus, and then..listening closely between the faint rustles of cloth and the breaths that marked her as restful still..he found his muse precisely where last he left it.

In the heartbeat he could detect beneath her ribs.

That beat drew a memory to the fore..a memory of a particular verse from a particular poetic work..that he knew, rightly presented, would be the perfect vehicle for expressing his affection for her on this morning of mornings.

All he had to do now was wait for the right moment to deploy it.

..

..

It was [09:45] when Shepard awoke, and as she often had since she'd left the Normandy for Earth, she did so in a rush. Her waking breath was drawn sharply and her eyes snapped open just as it was and they did most mornings. This time though, it was not a stress-born nightmare that roused her.

No.

It was the breath, soft and calm and easy against her neck, the presence at her back, and the warmth surrounding her that had woken her, and the _reason_ those things were there at all..the factual truth that her mate was with her still and hadn't evaporated, left or otherwise proven his return to the Normandy and the week preceding it to have been nothing but a fever-dream..that kept her that way.

Rapt by this truth all over again she remained perfectly still..her breath made short by affection-laced excitement..and focussed on how close they were. She could feel every inch of him, give or take, and she gloried in that fact until a memory wisped up from the back of her conscious but muzzy mind - one of Joker, long ago, remarking with heavy sarcasm that Thane seemed to him to be 'a real cuddler' – that, had she been a whisker more alert to anything but how rapturous it felt to wake in her mate's arms again, would have made her snort with amusement. As it was, she managed a gentle puff of breath and a wry mental comment.

_Jeff, you have __**no**__ idea_

In truth, it wasn't quite that simple.

He'd been right to a point, without a doubt. Her beau, while being the least from publicly demonstrative, did indeed have a romantic streak that lent to his enjoying a loving embrace, but that enjoyment was not the only reason she'd awoken to find herself so thoroughly entwined with him.

The other, more instinctual reason, was that he coveted her body heat.

Drell are exothermic, and therefore rely on external sources of heat and cold to help them thermoregulate. The more easily available such sources are, the less work the body has to do in terms of keeping its core temperature stable, and since the air had cooled during the night it was only natural for Thane to have snuggled himself between a heat source – her body – and that coolness. Because he wouldn't have had to expend energy trying to keep himself on an even keel, he would have been able to sleep much more easily for doing so, and as that thought surfaced, settling squarely beside the little coil of nirvana that sat where her soul was and uncurled a hint more as the truth of their situation..that he was healthy..that they were together..that this moment actually _was_..reasserted itself yet again, she realised that for all she was awake, she couldn't tell if her mate had joined her in the world of the wakeful yet.

He certainly hadn't shown any of the more obvious signs of waking.

There was no shifting..no waking breaths, slightly quicker and more shallow than those of a deeply asleep man..no tightening of his embrace about her or purred words spoken with sleep-born roughness against her ear.

But she couldn't be sure.

He was, after all, a master of stealth, and had on sleepy mornings past proven himself to be more than capable of fooling her into thinking he was still abed when he had in fact been wakeful and watching over her for minutes.

The want to know either way was powerful, but in the end..after a little bout of gleeful shifting and some greatly stifled sniggers of abject bliss..she tamped down on her curiosity in favour of caution. She didn't want to risk jarring him out of a very **VERY** well earned rest, and to that end did her damnedest to re-settle, allowing herself only the gentlest movements..the careful flex of her fingers within and against his and the occasional deep breath that helped her keep her elation from bubbling up and making her unforgivably noisy..as she waited for him to either make his wakefulness unequivocally clear to her, or to wake of his own accord.

..

The lull didn't last more than a minute.

As she gazed through the dim at how her fingers and her beau's had twined in the night, she felt what to her was a waking breath upon her neck and movement..a squeeze from those fingers before they slipped away and settled, along with the arm that'd so closely aligned to hers as they'd slept, about her waist. Holding back the urge to grin like a loon, she relaxed completely when a gentle but insistent tug was given upon her midriff, closing her eyes as her mate eased unwelcome inches between them before guiding her onto her back, murmuring..

"..Siha.."

..as he did. Once there, for a playful moment and as she had on countless occasions in the past, she feigned sleep..letting her head loll towards him on the pillow they'd ended up sharing..just to play at being able to fool him into thinking she slept still after so long a time apart.

It was a lost cause really, she knew.

Ever had he seemed to be able to tell when she had woken of a morning, and true to form on this one he had had her measure since long before she'd known he was awake.

Safe in this knowledge, Thane took his time to really look at her features..her brow, smooth now, not lined with stress..the closed eyes, strong nose and soft cheeks..tracing them with reverent fingertips before giving her the kiss he had been planning to since he himself first woke. It was a tender thing, gentle and lingering, and just devastating to the keeping up of ruses like that Shepard was trying to; so much so in fact that she quickly gave in, tilting her head up and back a hint so that she might return the affection properly. They remained thus, their kiss maintained and lengthened, not ceded to the need for a second or third, until it ended naturally and she hushed..

"I can never get you, can I"

..in a just-this-side-of-sleepy grumble, her eyes flickering open and lips curving into a smile at the sight of her beau taking her in in that singularly complete way of his - every facet of her expression read and logged away after a reflexive comparison of it to the last memory he had of watching her 'wake' like this. "How do you do it?" she asked, freeing an arm from the blanket swathing them both and touching loosely curled fingers to his brow. "How'd you know every time?"

A Drellish smile, deep and resonant, rose in Thane's chest in response, and he bowed his head into the contact as he composed his reply. Her question couldn't have been better phrased all told..not if one was thinking, as he most certainly was, in terms of being able to ease an affectionate reference to poetry into their conversation. His smile beginning to reach his lips, he explained as he touched a hand gently upon her upper-chest, "It is your _heart_. It speeds when you wake, and the change often reaches me."

Shepard blinked, a shocked huff escaping her as she looked between them. "You're serious? From all the way over there?"

"From all the way over here, yes" Thane confirmed, a soft chuff of mirth escaping around the words. "My people have nothing like Turian acuity, but while I could not detect it from across a room in the way Mr Vakarian can, from here.." His fingers splayed slowly, the contrast between his scales and her skin compelling to him. "Yes. From here I hear it well."

"What does it sound like?" she asked, the last vestiges of sleepiness leaving her completely at this, the newest thing she'd come to learn about her beau and his people. "Is it muffled? Echoy? How clearly can you hear it?"

Thane's smile grew at her curiosity, his planned aside still very much on track for its presence. Given the chance he would seek to stir it about himself as well, a comparison being necessary for his purposes, but for now he focused on her question. "Let me listen a moment and I will show you.." he said, easing himself down against her body when she opened her arms in invitation and nestling his ear, with great care, to her chest.

Shepard swallowed a thoroughly contented coo at the gesture, not wanting to disturb his concentration as he sought again the beat he knew so well. Practically speaking he didn't need to do it, his hearing and perfect memory providing more than enough material for him to go off of in terms of mimicry, but that just made the fact he did all the more endearing to her. He remained thus for about a minute before again raising his head, tilting it in acknowledgement of the gentle caress her fingers had been giving his frill while he listened and musing..

"Would that I could offer a perfect imitation. I fear I am not that skilled. But.."

..before sitting up a little, giving her temple an affectionate touch with his cheek and leaning up enough that her ear was close to his throat. Words of explanation for the move were then spoken, "Listen closely now", and were followed, after a breath was taken, by a distinct double-beat that was made in his throat and sounded to her for all the world like the beat of a human heart.

Not precisely of course.

The sound, as he'd said it wouldn't be, was not a perfect replication. But it was her heart beat, copied by Thane as he listened to it in real time. He followed it exactly, speeding his mimicry as her enjoyment quickened it, and broke off with a grin when she noticed and spoke an affectionately teasing, "Show off."

His repost, "Never", earned him a chortle from her, and a curious look when he added in a purposefully offhand manner, "Though I can mimic my own as well" that he hoped would pique her interest enough to have her press him for an example. Gladly, after shifting up closer to him so she might hear him more clearly, her ear again near to his throat and her fingers resting light upon his chest to seek his heartbeat tactually, she enthused..

"I'm listening"

..and he obliged..but as he did she was confused. The slow, strong beat beneath her fingers she recognised by touch as his..but the thrumming double-beat he made in his throat?

It was exactly the same as it had been earlier.

And that..simply wasn't right going on what she could feel.

Glancing up and meeting his eyes as his rendition eased off into normal breathing, she put her observation to him. "That's impressive as all heck you know..but it doesn't match what's in here." She tapped his chest softly. "I can feel the difference." A knowing smile at first was his only response, and she pressed, "I'm missing something aren't I. Something _reeeeal_ obvious.." hoping to be thrown a line..a hint..anything that'd reveal to her the meaning behind his repetition.

Luckily, Thane had just the thing.

"When I was in the hospital, love.." he said, "when I was ailing and missed you..I devoted myself to reading. Seeking words that might help me feel closer to you. A certain few worked very, very well..and I would like to share them with you."

"Tell me" she prompted, her tone breathy and touched despite how she was a hint confused about what words had to do with mimicked heartbeats.

Thane smiled, and enlightened her.

"I will need to doctor them slightly to suit my purpose..but..", he paused a moment..and then quoted with the utmost sincerity, "..'You carry my heart. You carry it in your heart.'.."

..

And suddenly..with those ten words..everything made perfect sense.

His implication coming clear to her, the little coil of nirvana in her chest uncurled yet further - the rush of affection the words brought making her throat tight. Long seconds passed..seconds which saw her gather him close and, with closed eyes and gentle pressure, touch her brow to his..before she found the voice to respond.

"My God..the things you say to me.." she hushed. "I can't even.." Pulling back a hint, she shook her head in enraptured disbelief. "How'd you _do_ that? Where do you get words like that from? And the thoughts you express with them? Really now, where'd you _find_ them?" A puff of mirth escaped her then; utterly touched-to-the-soul mirth. "I've got all of it right here.." She touched her fingers to her upper-chest, tapping firmly. "I get it every time I even half think of you. But getting it out like that?" Again, she shook her head, eyes brimming with affection and lips tugged apart in a half-blissful half-fuddled smile. "Christ Thane.."

Her mate had it in him to look a hint bashful as he replied, taking each query in turn. "As to your 'How' question..everything I have ever read, Siha, I recall as easily as I do anything else I have committed to memory. A luxury you do not have." He stroked her temple gently with the backs of his fingers, a smile curving the edges of his lips when she leant into the contact. "Where? On this occasion the words I used were penned over two hundred years ago by a man named Cummings. One E.E. Cummings. Do you know of him?"

Shepard shook her head, renewed curiosity settling beside the affection in her eyes.

"He was a..controversial figure in his day" Thane opined, "but I find the way he expressed himself in that particular verse deeply compelling."

"I can see why" she said, aching still in her heart from the message he'd conveyed through it.

A soft hum of agreement came up from his chest, his eyes flickering briefly as he recalled her remaining question. "And as to where I find the thoughts to express with borrowed words from a lifetime's worth of avid reading? Where do I find their inspiration? Siha.." He seemed almost to scoff quietly, as if the answer to her question was obvious. Then, as she had just a moment back, he tapped his fingers upon her upper-chest.

She needed no further explanation.

_It's all in there_, he was saying.

_It's all in you_.

Taking his fingers in hers as a muffled almost-groan of emotion worked itself free from her throat, she squeezed gently before bowing her head to them, kissing each as she searched for a reply that conveyed her feelings for him in even half as eloquent and loving a fashion as he'd managed with his use of poetry.

Such a thing she couldn't manage.

She just wasn't the verse type, in all honesty.

But that didn't mean she was up the creek without a paddle.

Just as her mate could draw inspiration from her and the library he carried around in his memory, she could do the same from him and their immediate circumstances. She focused on them a moment..on how they were curled together comfortably, each waking to the day in their own way, at their own pace and with, in Thane's case, a use of implication that was frankly _staggering_ given the fact that he hadn't even gotten out of bed yet..and in them she found her words; words that she realised, upon brief but thorough reflection, she'd never really shared with him before.

Not like this.

Not like _now_.

"I..ah..like I said earlier" she began, prefacing her message carefully. "I'm not too good at making words work around emotional things..and I'm even worse with poetry..so..I hope you don't mind if mine're a bit simpler. A bit more..common. Regular. Everyday.. ..And this..this is something I want said everyday from now on because..and I know you know this without me saying it..but because we've _got_ from now on"

..before speaking it with as straight a face as she could muster through the flutterings of glee in her belly.

"G'morning. Sleep well?"

..

Thane's breath caught, the simplicity of her greeting doing nothing to mask the weight behind it.

The words it was made up of were common, yes. Regular. Everyday, but also _not_ for implicit within them was the fact that _this_ morning, here, now, was not only the first they had awoken to together since they'd been forced to part..the event he had marked with his little poetic aside..but the first of many they would awaken to thus. The first of a future's-worth of mornings that, until now, they hadn't ever allowed themselves to dream of having before them.

And he'd known..just like she said.

Gods how he'd _known_..

But to hear it..

A soft splutter of laughter escaped him before he could catch it, his lips tugging around it in a deeply touched smile as he concluded that, for all its loving implications and veiled meanings, poetry held not a candle to something so apt.

So simple.

So _crushingly_ personal.

He couldn't but answer in kind.

"Good morning Amial" he said. "Yes, thank you. And you?"

By the time his question was fully posed, his mirth had proved contagious; both he and his mate succumbing to the joy brought by their situation and pressing into each other, their brows again touched together in affection and glee as the moment's weight settled upon them fully. Shepard's reply..

"Never better. Never _ever_ better"

..was firm with conviction as they nestled into each other's arms, savouring the feeling of Wholeness they shared before their second proper kiss of the day was given and returned.

It took them another 45 minutes to even contemplate beginning their day.

* * *

><p>And now!<p>

_**Coming in the next chapter**_

Breakfast is shared

Concerns are discussed

And Shepard learns a new word


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Welcome to chapter 15 everyone. There're a good few references to numerous chapters in this one - most notably chapters 3, 6, 7 and 8 - so if you catch a reference you aren't sure of (which is unlikely) thems be the places to begin looking. The next chapter will be up in a few days :-)

Reviews and the like are loved and cherished.

Do enjoy.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G. _

* * *

><p><span>Counsel<span>

_**In which Shepard and Thane enjoy breakfast and discuss Kolyat's concerns**_

"What're you doing there?" Shepard asked through a chortle.

She had just come back from the galley with a light meal for she and her beau to share in their quarters, having split the morning chores with him when they were finally able to coax themselves from their blanket's velvety confines and into a clean set of civvies each - cargos, combats and a black T for her and comfortable slacks and a loose, dark brown, button-down shirt for him - and had expected to find him, under the terms of said chore-split, making their morning brew with the tea maker he had been carefully unpacking when she'd left.

And he had, she was sure.

She could smell tea leaves on the air, and could see the tea maker standing all shiny and proud upon the coffee table that had, in her absence and per long-established breakfast time custom, been pulled out from its usual place and bordered, on one corner, by the two large, square show-pillows that normally sat over the bank of usable ones on their bed.

What she had not expected though was the presence of the sand heater on said table; its presence and use, she noted as she watched her beau ease a second full mug into its open belly, for things as yet unknown to her.

Grinning, she couldn't help herself.

"It's not bath time, is it?"

The note of hope in her voice made Thane chuckle. "No, but it will keep the mugs warm regardless" he explained, straightening as she drew near and taking the tray she was carrying so that she could crouch by the heater for a better look. He had set the former down beside the latter, the tea maker quickly banished from the table to make room, when she delivered her verdict on his ingenuity..

"Clever..I'd never have thought of that"

..and he dipped his head modestly, waiting until she had kicked off her boots and settled on one of the pillows before taking a seat on that which remained and surveying the array. She had done well on her trip to the galley, the selection of cold but cooked meats, flatbread, quickly scrambled eggs and two handfuls of what Kehksi had translated as 'Mealworms' - lightly toasted in a dry pan as her mate had instructed - making up a fine (if eclectic) breakfast, and they were quick to take up plates and fill them to their liking before conversation really got going as they began their meal.

Minutes went by.

Conjectures about what they planned to do with their first full day together were swapped.

And all told it was a mighty fine middle-of-the-morning repast..until, that is, Shepard got curious.

From the moment she'd gathered up the packet of the Drellish staple from within one of the boxes by the door, she'd wondered at its taste. She hadn't dared to try any while cooking it, unsure as she was whether eating it semi-raw would do her stomach any good, but now she had both motive and opportunity to test the waters about giving it a go. Thus, after her mate had swallowed down his latest mouthful, she brooked..

"Could I have a taste of that?"

..gesturing to the neatly kept heap of dry, brownish, rice-looking things on his plate.

At her interest, Thane grinned. "It is Ts'al'teh" he said, using the best Basic approximation of the syllables he could so his translator didn't appropriate them in a fit of pique as it did with the word 'Siha'. "And yes, of course you may." He scooped up a spoonful for her as she grappled with the new word..

"Ss-al-tee?"

..and chuckled softly, correcting her twice..

"Ts..al..teh"

"Sss..ahl..teh?"

"Closer. Add a 'T' sound at the beginning. Ts..Ts-al-teh"

"T-sal-teh?"

..before giving a nod of pride for her effort and handing her the implement and the taster it carried.

Glad of her success, she eyed her prize briefly and then took the entire lot in one.

Quickly.

Cleanly.

Chew and swal-_HK_!

She went rigid as the taste registered - an unholy mix, to her taste buds, of burnt toast and _gristle_. To her credit though, she didn't gag and got it all down with two deep gulps from her teacup; her mate looking on with a mix of concern and mirth. The latter won out when she croaked..

"I'm fine"

..and turned an embarrassed smile on him. "_That_ just.."

"Has an acquired taste, yes?"

Nodding, she mustered a confident, certain, "Oh-ho _yes_" to which Thane, hoping to ease the flush in her cheeks with a little empathy, replied, "Much like cheese, I'd wager. Hm?"

His enquiring tone, the deadpan delivery and the slight quirk of the brow that came with the words combined to leave Shepard fighting back hacking laughter. It had been a quiet day, the one he was referring to; the one that saw her, with an innocence about his people and their eating habits she was no longer possessed of, open a tub containing a strong, colony-made cheddar and offer him first dibs. Stupidly she'd thought that, since she and her then Drellish friend got on so well and had a good few things in common despite their obvious differences, her love for the stuff would be mutual.

As it turned out, it was not.

Very not.

Unequivocally _**not**_.

Had he not been so already the poor man would have turned four shades of green at the scent of the stuff, and had looked distinctly peaky for a good hour after his initial exposure. Never was she permitted to bring little plastic boxes into his quarters again.

"Can I apologise for that again please?", she snickered, giving him an affectionate nudge to the shoulder. "I didn't realise that dairy and Drell weren't compatible."

"You may, and they most certainly aren't" Thane replied, murmuring a genial 'Thank you' as she returned his spoon before turning back to his breakfast. Shepard did the same, glad to cleanse her palate with eggs, assorted meats and tea.

Lots of tea.

The morning blend her beau had picked was spicy and warming, a little like cinnamon, and she was midway through making them a second mug each - his sorted, hers on the boil - when, as she watched the tea maker whirr away to itself in its spot beside the table, a thought..

.._Kolyat bought this_..

..struck her and brought to the fore of her mind that which yesterday she had forced to the back of it; her impromptu meeting with Thane's taciturn son and the worries he had about his father.

Worries that, given the promise she'd made to him, she'd have to raise sooner or later.

Looking back towards her mate as he took a sip from his mug, she felt a swell of trepidation rise up in her. It was coping-born, yes..her long-conditioned need to keep stress away from him grumbling at the thought of introducing potentially worrying information into their morning..but there was more to it than that; a _more_ that hadn't come to her until right this moment. She realised that, in deciding to put off said introduction the way she had, she'd essentially inserted herself into an interpersonal dynamic that had absolutely nothing to do with her, and pure as her intentions had been she hadn't the foggiest how Thane would react to that.

To her making a decision that was directly to do with his son without his knowledge.

For a brief moment she wondered if she could somehow back peddle..take the decision to hold off back and just act as the messenger Kolyat had taken her to be..but she knew better than to think that the way to correct one potentially mortifying misstep was to compound it by trying to wriggle out of the situation it had brought about.

All she could really do was relay what she knew as tactfully as possible, and be open about what had been said.

Thus, after rounding mentally on the niggling coping and shoving it aside lest it send her silent with indecision and doubt, she took a readying breath, eased her now full mug from the tea maker, took a sip from it after swallowing back a forkful of eggs and picked her moment to segue onto the topic.

..

"I..spoke with Kolyat yesterday" she said, holding back the urge to wince at how damn blunt the words came out sounding.

"Oh?" Thane queried, giving a quick double-blink as he regarded her. He seemed equal parts surprised and curious, though when his eyes flickered, a memory coming and going in the space of a breath, his expression changed; his brows lowering in a frown as mental dots connected with its passing. "He was the 'hold up' you mentioned?"

Now she did wince, admitting, "He caught me on my way to Huerta, yeah" and adding quickly when her beau remained just a shade too quiet and thoughtful for her to believe that he was entirely comfortable with her decision to keep their having met from him, "He was fine when I saw him. Just worried about you and wanting to talk to me about it." Bracing herself for censure then, she explained, "I didn't bring it up yesterday because it was your first day out..but I should have. I'm sorry" and waited, chin dipped pointedly in what she knew to be a placating gesture from a regretful Drell to a potentially offended one, for him to respond.

To warn her away from dealing with Kolyat, perhaps.

Or to take offence at her entirely accidental presumptiveness.

Gladly though, offence wasn't what she'd sown in Thane with her purposeful omission, and so he did neither of the things she expected him to. His fingers instead found her chin the moment she lowered it in apology, raising it back up to its usual proud angle in the hope of conveying the fact that her contrition, while accepted, was not needed. A word then, her word..

"Siha"

..was spoken, and he smiled faintly as his touch fell away and she met his eyes. "You needn't apologise. I understand your reasoning, and am not aggrieved by your choice to only speak of your meeting now. I would though.." His tone changed slightly as he spoke, first becoming a hint more firm, "thank you in the future to put from your mind thoughts of first days where my son is concerned, and share what you know of him as soon as it is practicable to do so" and then again, mild amusement replacing that firmness as he concluded, "He is mine to fret over, after all."

"Of course he is!" Shepard practically yelped, her cheeks suddenly so red that they rivalled her mate's facial pleats in terms of colouring. She barrelled on quickly, phrases coming fast and half-formed.. "I wasn't trying to- I mean I- I'd _never_-" ..until Thane cut her off.

"I know. Be calm love..be calm.." he said, his expression and tone equally gentle as he laid a comforting hand upon her arm. Only once he was sure that she had begun to settle properly, her uneasy restlessness petering out, did he prompt, "Now tell me, what about the meeting so unsettled you that it stole your tongue?"

It took her a moment, and a bit of work, but she found her answer. "The entire thing unsettled me. From start to finish."

"Why did it?"

Taking a quick breath as his touch again fell away, she started at the beginning. "I just..didn't have a clue how to handle the situation going in. I didn't expect to see him, and when I did all I could really think was, '_Shit_ I hope Thane's ok.' I thought he'd come to tell me you'd taken a turn or.." she gave a soft huff, shaking her head at where her mind had first flown in that moment, "..or something."

Thane hummed empathically. He understood the worst-case-scenario gut reaction very, very well.

"Once I'd figured out that you were fine" she went on, recounting her experience as fully as she could while keeping things relevant, "we found a quiet place to talk. He explained that he was concerned for you, and all the while I was wondering how much I could say. How..ahh.." she glanced away briefly, remembered mortification making her stomach flip, "..how much he knew, or not, about the two of us.."

Her mate missed not a beat. "Nothing."

Blinking once, she repeated.. "Nothing" ..curiously. She'd assumed since their meeting that Kolyat didn't know of her relationship with his father, and now that she knew she was right she couldn't but seek a bit more clarity on the issue; if only to make any future meetings she had with him easier on them both.

Thane gave a short nod. "Yes. I had no want to stress him any more than my condition and our past already had, and through our conversations, watchful for such things as I was, I realised that discretion was the better part of valour. At least then." Pausing a moment he read her expression, seeking out signs of ill will or discomfort. He found none, just focus and concentration, but was still cautious when he next spoke..

"This, perhaps, is something we should discuss"

..testing her reaction to his suggestion.

There was silence first. Silence but for that intent, unwavering regard. Then, slowly enough to betray how much weight she ascribed to talk of Kolyat and her involvement, even tangentially, with him, she tilted her head and gave a very slight nod of agreement.

"Far as I'm concerned" she said, words careful, tone measured, "whatever you think is best for Kolyat is what I'm all for. It's not my place to be making decisions about things like that."

"But it is your place" Thane countered, "to have a say in the decisions I make about such things when they directly concern you, as this one does. With that in mind.." He paused a moment, offering her his hands. She took them without hesitation. "Do you too believe that discretion was wise?"

Again Shepard blinked, her place in her mate's world becoming a hint clearer. A hint sharper. And indeed, if one were inclined to look at it in that way, a hint _closer_. A hint _more involved_. Never during their time together had he spoken like this; of them and of Kolyat in the same breath as he was now.

She had no illusions of grandeur about it of course.

It was nothing of a welcome into the bosom of the family Krios or anything close.

Such a thing would frankly petrify her, but this conferral here, now, did not do that at all.

This was simply another of the numerous and varied tiny steps closer to one another they'd been taking since they met; another little movement into each other's orbit initiated by one and accepted by the other.

In recognition of this and agreement with his reasoning, she squeezed his hands, smiling around her reply. "Yeah, you're right. He had enough on his plate, never mind something unexpected."

"And now?" he asked, the intensity behind his curiosity belying the import he placed in her answer.

"Now.." She took a breath, blowing it out slowly between her lips. "..What do you think? You know him a heck of a lot better than I do."

He gave a half-wry, half-mirthful huff. "In this I do not. But I do know that for what little he knows you, he thinks highly of you. He thanks you for his place in life now."

Her brows shot up. "Really?"

Thane nodded, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. "Yes. Of all the scattered things he has shared with me about himself, that one was one of the first."

Suddenly sheepish, Shepard dipped her chin. "Well I didn't expect that, I'll tell you."

"Oh?"

"Thane" she snuffed, "besides sitting with him yesterday afternoon I've only ever met him to punch him in the head."

"An action" he pointed out sagely, "that carried greater weight than it first seemed to. It was the least violent outcome of the situation Kolyat had gotten himself into. You could have shot him. Any of the officers at your back could have shot him, and would have had the standoff escalated. Instead, you saw your moment, distracted him, and at the very least saved him great distress. At best..you saved his life."

Spluttering softly to herself, she averted her gaze a moment, too modest to accept things the way he'd explained them despite the truth in his words. Hers, a soft, "I did what I had to", that came as she glanced back to him, were met with a nod and an equally soft reply..

"You see now why I am so very inclined to think you a Siha"

..that sent her spluttering anew, her heart clenching in that odd, breath-catching way it had taken to doing when her mate reached out with his words and caressed it. Nothing coherent escaped her for a long moment, and she didn't fight it. Instead, she let herself grumble and quiver in the verbal sense as Thane gathered her into his embrace, and did little but those things until she found the only words that really mattered; those she'd repeat until she was hoarse given half a chance.

"I love you."

Her mate returned them in kind, in both the tonal sense and the verbal one, and touched their brows together as the former eased through him and into her; the resonance she could feel where her hand touched his chest tickling her skin.

Seconds passed thus.

Seconds that may have gathered together to form a minute before their conversation resumed.

"And for that reason.." Shepard reiterated softly, leant close to Thane still, "and because I know it's what you want too, I want what's best for Kolyat. What'll stress him least. Whatever that is, I'm for it one hundred percent."

With a hum of appreciation for her candour, Thane pressed into his love's brow a hint more firmly to better impress his gratitude and affection for her. Then, as the moment passed and they eased apart once more to a conversational distance, he answered the question implicit in her words. "I think that modesty would be prudent still. If only to introduce him to the idea of our being together slowly. I've no want to turn yet another part of his world on its head."

Shepard nodded along as he spoke, offering an agreeable, "Of course not", and redoubling her attentiveness when their conversation then turned, from new and loving conferrals of closeness, back to her meeting with his son.

"When you spoke with Kolyat, Siha.." he brooked, "may I ask what else he mentioned to you? Did he only express concern for my wellbeing or did you speak of other things?"

Pensiveness overcame her as she gathered her reply.

Caught as she was yet again between wanting to heed her mate's request that she be open with him and her ingrained habit of doing just the opposite where being so might stress him, it took a good few seconds of stalling to make the words come. Despite this difficulty though, there was no way in all hell she'd let her hang-ups cause her to misstep the way she had by withholding Kolyat's message, and so she laid out all he'd told her as succinctly as she could.

"He said that he felt you didn't give him a fair hearing when he spoke to you about being worried. He thinks that you made the decision to re-join the Normandy rashly, and said that you'd get sick or hurt if you did. He doesn't want that to happen, and I promised him I'd speak to you about his concerns."

It was a broad-strokes answer, certainly, but the only thing she really left out was his use of memory in conveying what he had. For all it had been greatly useful as an illustrative tool, she saw no need to bring it up now; particularly since the memory in question had involved her mate being in a deeply vulnerable state. She could do open, but there was no way she'd risk mentioning details that might make him recall less healthful times, especially if said details weren't pivotal to their discussion.

None the wiser for the omission, Thane considered her words and the circumstances that precipitated them. That his son had sought her out at all surprised him, and spoke volumes about how concerned he must be. Generally speaking he was a private person, particularly where his emotions were concerned, and would not approach someone in the way he had the Commander (more or less strangers as they were) unless the need was absolutely dire. Upon reflection though, he had to admit the logic of the move.

Whom else could he go to with his concerns, after all?

Kolyat was more or less evangelical about keeping their relationship from his acquaintances, and had never found talking to him about such things at all easy. On the scant occasions he had tried to in the past, he'd invariably wound himself up so completely that talking at all became unbearable, and so they tended, wherever possible, to leave the emotive, uncomfortable topics alone. Now though, doing this was clearly not an option, and with hindsight Thane concluded that, in view of their last conversation regarding his plans to go to war, he should have seen a return to the topic coming. Perhaps not in the form it had arrived in, uncharacteristically involved as it was given Kolyat's habitual arm's length approach with him, but something.

Filing this oddity away for later consideration, he turned his attention back to his mate, saying.. "I see" ..before drawing to the fore of his mind the memory that, for him, underscored what she was speaking of best; the moment that had caused all of the concerns his son had relayed to her. He spoke it out as it came, using it, unwittingly, in much the same way Kolyat had his.

"Kolyat settles across from me at the table.." he recounted, the weight of his Siha's gaze lost on him as the world about him faded, "..his expression - facial and, though consciously muted, tonal – conveying the same mix of curiosity and reserve that I have been met with of late when he has visited the hospital.

'What did you want to see me about?' he asks, the words echoed faintly by that tone in a way he used to deny me outright. That he does not now speaks more of the progress we have made in our relationship than anything either of us could convey with spoken words. I bask in that knowledge..in the sound of my son's voice, unfettered by loathing..and then broach the topic that I know risks alienating him from me all over again.

'Commander Shepard visited me yesterday afternoon' I say.

Surprise takes his tonal curiosity up an octave for the length of a breath. 'Really?' he asks, furtiveness and remembered embarrassment colouring the pleating on his cheeks. 'Why?'

I take a short breath to quiet the urge to sigh, knowing just by looking at his face that he assumes she came to speak with me about him. Such a thing would be easier to broach I'd wager. As it is, although I will not show it vocally or otherwise, apprehension claws at me. I find I cannot but speak bluntly; needing to get what I must tell him said so that it can be dealt with.

'She has need of me aboard the Normandy. I shall be departing with her within the fortnight.'

Abruptly, his chest falls utterly silent; the loss and the shock in his face cutting me to the quick. 'You're joking..right?' he says, disbelief in both his words and his searching expression. I cannot lie to him.

'No' I reply, the word necessarily even.

As I expected it would, anger fills his eyes. Anger and incomprehension. 'But father..' he splutters, '..you've only just got back on your feet!'

'I have been properly physically able for the past two months, Kolyat.' I say, the words even still.

He chuffs derisively in response, and I blink at the sound's sudden intrusion into our otherwise tonally silent conversation. 'Physically able to walk around the hospital, sure' he clips, 'but you're not fit to fight!'

I draw myself up in my chair. 'My role will be advisory only' I explain, hoping to soothe him. 'Commander Shepard said herself that she will not risk my safety on the front lines. I need never leave the Normandy.'

I am unsuccessful.

'For the love of..' he snaps, scrubbing a hand over his face in obvious exasperation. 'Taking an advisory role on a warship puts you no further from danger than if you were on the front lines!'.."

His son's words ringing in his ears, Thane jolted himself free of the memory to find his mate's attention riveted on him; her eyes wide and breaths a hint quicker than they had been before. Exhaling slowly as he re-centred himself, he met her gaze. For a beat, there was silence. Necessary, welcome silence as the memory's impact settled upon her.

Then, words.

Careful ones.

"Kolyat asked me" Shepard broached, "to speak to you for him, so I'm gonna do that. About your place in the war..leaving the Citadel..things like that. Ok?"

"And you will relay your findings to him, yes?" Thane asked. It was curiosity not reserve that prompted the question, and he responded, after her..

"He wants feedback, yeah. How he gets that..from me..or you..that's up to you"

..with a nod and an obliging, "Of course. Please, go ahead."

Averting her eyes a moment, she wet her lips and puffed out a breath, collecting all she'd gathered from her meeting with the young Drell into phrases that she would put to Thane. The first came intuitively, and was perhaps the most obvious of the undercurrents in their interaction that she'd perceived.

"He doesn't want you to leave."

Again, Thane nodded, his reply simple. "I know."

Meeting his eyes as he spoke it, her tummy gave a distinct flutter. There was a resignation there..a sadness, quiet and only detectable because she knew him and he was comfortable letting her see it..that she hadn't expected. Her first instinct was to offer comfort..to ask what was wrong..but she was not here, in this moment, for Thane. She was here for Kolyat and had to speak for him, and the only way she could rightly do that was by keeping her mate, for the moment, at a bit of a distance.

"You don't have to leave" she pressed. "You could stay where it's safe."

His response was quick, practiced. "I could not."

"Tell me why."

"Outside of the fact that my skills..chiefly infiltration and tactical planning..will be an asset to the war effort and therefore wasted if I do remain, there are three reasons in sum" he said, taking a slow sip of tea before turning his mind to explaining himself further. "I have been discharged from the hospital now, yet need daily doses of a medication that can only be stored and administered with medical grade equipment. I would therefore need a domicile close to the hospital to make what would be the daily commute workable, and frankly I could not afford one."

A frown pinched Shepard's brow. "No savings?"

Thane shook his head. "What meagre fare I had went to Kolyat on my instructions prior to my operation. I thought I was to die, love. I couldn't not expedite the inheritance process a little. And besides, giving what I did to him as a gift saved him from having to pay inheritance tax on it. It was for the best at the time, and while it leaves me wanting now I would not change the decision nor take back the gift. It has helped him acquire the apartment he now lives in. I am content with that."

Swallowing to stop the swell of emotion his words left in her chest from showing in her voice overly, she chanced a smile. "Ok. So the savings are with Kolyat and you can't afford a place on the Citadel. What else? You said _reasons_."

"Secondly" he went on, "I could not accept the alternative to purchasing an apartment of my own; staying with my son in his. This would simply be unworkable. Our relationship.." He thought for a moment, looking for the best way to express what he wished to. "It works best, at least at this stage, when he can leave the room if I irk him somehow and be content in the knowledge that he will not see me again until he desires to. It lets him control the speed of our reacquaintance, and that pleases him, I think."

"That..makes a lot of sense, thinking about it" Shepard commented, tilting her head in thought as her beau took another bite of his breakfast. She knew from personal experience with her mother's Gareth that she had gotten on better with him, prior to realising at about eighteen that the man wasn't the spawn of Satan come to replace her father, when she could deal with him on her own terms and, more importantly, in her own time. Relaying this parallel to Thane, she was careful not to try and come across as overly empathetic - the differences in their respective circumstances making more than a gentle comparison-come-reassurance untenable - and allowed her aside to wind down naturally once it was made so she could get back, with a deferential, "Sorry. You were saying?", to listening as he presented his final reason for being unable to remain on the Citadel.

He gave a nod of acknowledgement, then spoke it..albeit haltingly.

"And thirdly..perhaps most pressingly..is the simple fact that I do not _want_ to remain here."

The words carried an undertone that she couldn't quite place at first, but as he added.. "Hearing it spoken aloud is..discomforting..for I know what Kolyat would glean from it" ..she cottoned on.

Guilt.

It was _guilt_.

She had to probe.

"What? What'd you think he'll glean from you wanting a change of scenery?"

His response..

"Abandonment"

..almost knocked her sideways.

"I.." she frothed. "Abandon-.._what_?"

Her pique passed over him like oil over water. "And he would have good reason to feel that way."

"_What_ reason?"

"Precedent."

..

A silence crept between them for a beat, the word hanging in the air before Shepard, grasping for meaning, repeated it in question.

"Precedent?"

Thane nodded, though when he went to elaborate he found himself at a rare and sudden loss for words. He knew what he wanted to say, certainly; had how he would explain himself planned out in his mind.

But actually doing that?

Sharing something he felt so very guilty about?

Even with his mate..she who he trusted most in the galaxy and with whom he had shared so much without ever facing disgust or judgement..exposing what was in essence the legacy of his greatest failing was not an easy thing to do. He managed it though. After a long moment of gathering himself, seeking her eyes for the comfort he knew he would find in them (bordered by curiosity and concern as it now was), he managed it.

"..Siha.. ..I have always been a deeply selfish man."

Shocked by his tone, she scowled, a kneejerk defence of his character coming up. "No y-"

He wouldn't hear of it.

"No" he clipped, shaking his head tightly. "Hear me. Throughout my life, I have acted selfishly. Perhaps..it is partially a product of my training. To be self-reliant to the point of excluding the needs of others in favour of my own. But regardless of its root, I have been and am a deeply selfish man. When my family was young and I had to support them, I took the job that was most accessible to me. Easiest for me. That I was best at. Yes, the wages were a factor, but there are other well paid occupations outside of mine. I could have retrained, yet I did not. Pridefully. Wilfully. I went back to work."

Shepard's brow furrowed all the further as she listened, taking up her cup and drawing from it carefully to mask how the roll of adrenaline that went through her at his words made her jittery.

"Then" he went on, "Irikah was taken from me, and again..I took the route that best suited me. Not my son, who needed me. Not our wider family, in mourning. Me. I did what I felt was necessary chiefly for my own purposes. For revenge. I left my son with his aunts and uncles to go out and murder murderers." He shook his head. "Becoming what I so despised in the process."

"It was instinct, Thane" she hissed, hiding a pronounced wince of discomfort with another sip from her mug. She thought to argue with him. To try and persuade him that he was not solely at fault in that moment. That the circumstances had forced his hand. She so _wanted_ to, but she knew she would lose. They had touched upon this most delicate of topics before, long ago during their first tour, and she had been unable to convince him otherwise. Instead, now, she simply listened.

He spoke on as if she hadn't said a word.

"And after that was done, I returned to him briefly, yes, but..shame at causing his mother's death..grief..worry for his safety..the knowledge that he would have a better life without my being there to stain it..they kept me as distant as it was possible for me to be. Then.." he drew in a slow breath, the remorse in his tone easing as he began to speak of the present, "ten years flew by..and you helped me reconnect with him when I thought there was no time. And now..by the grace of the Gods I am yet here. I was proven wrong, and he is safe..and he somehow..somehow wants me in his life."

As his words trailed off with something akin to wonder, Shepard gathered her most gentle, unassuming tone and prompted, "And I know you want to be in it", setting down her mug and smiling softly when his eyes again met hers. "It's the Citadel you want to leave, not Kolyat."

"Of course" Thane replied, nodding once, "but will he know that? I have wanted him in my life always, Siha. Never more than through our estranged years. It was shame that kept me from him then. Shame and the want to keep him safe from my.." He paused, reconsidering his word-choice. "From me."

She grimaced, agonised for him, but he went on before she could muster words.

"Will he not feel as though I am abandoning him? Leaving him yet again to do some more important thing than remain by his side? Grown or not, with our history..with my precedent..I fear he will. And what is worse.." a chuff escaped him, flat, mirthless and self-deprecating, "..even his most earnest wish for me to remain out of danger is not enough to stay me.. ..I would leave still, knowing that he wants me not to."

Silence reigned for a long, long moment then; Thane fixed on giving himself a thorough, if silent, mental flaying for his egoism and Shepard, poor stunned Shepard, trying her best to piece together a response that might, if nothing else, help her do what her every fibre screamed at her to and reassure her mate all she could. She was grasping for almost a minute..looking for a line, a question, anything that'd let her penetrate what he had told her in a constructive way..until she found one not in what he had said, but in what he hadn't.

Context.

She needed context.

"Why do you think he'll feel that way now?" she asked, her voice both tender and curious. "He didn't seem to when I spoke to him. All I got was worry." Thinking back a moment, she clarified, "Ok, a little anger too..and some confusion..but they were overlaid by worry."

Thane, drawn from his fugue by the question, stiffened at the coming of a memory he did not call forth willingly. Still though, despite it taking him by surprise and being as painful as the last one to share, he spoke it out..

"Tonal rage boils through Kolyat's chest, his breaths tight with it as he shoves away from the table and jabs a finger at me. 'Don't you talk to **me** about presence!' he seethes. 'My only memory of you is your damned **ABSENCE**! I don't even know your face!'.."

..and then sought his mate's eyes as the room came back into focus; finding comfort there again despite the shock in her expression. She seemed at a loss at first, her attempt to put an encouraging gloss on the situation apparently derailed, but with the persistence that he had come to both see as her hallmark and love about her, she soldiered on through.

"He was speaking in anger" she offered. "You said it yourself, and besides, what he said would only make sense if he was raging and looking for things to say to hurt you. I mean, how can he not know your face? He's Drellish."

"He was angry, yes" Thane agreed, "but one can have perfect memory and still not know another's face."

Shepard frowned, confused but also glad for the expository tack her mate seemed to have taken in answering her. He wasn't wallowing in guilt and self-deprecation, despite seeming to have a counter for her attempt at positivity. That, at this moment in time, was good enough for her. "How's that?"

"You recall when first I spoke to you of Kolyat?" he queried, "When he was disconnected?"

"I do, yeah."

"His words implied something similar about he and I. You were correct of course. He, by his nature, remembers my face. He couldn't not. But there is a difference between recalling what I look like, and building up layers of memory around that facet of me; really learning it and coming to know it as mine through long acquaintance. That was what he implied was lacking. Were he human, he may have said instead, 'You've never been there for me. I don't know who you are.'.."

"..Right.." she managed, scrabbling again for an optimistic slant to take on such a vitriolic statement; true as it may well have been. She came up more or less lacking, though did have one proverbial Ace to play. And play it she did.

"He still seemed more worried than angry when he spoke to me" she said, reaching and laying a hand over his wrist. He covered it with his and favoured her with a small though thankful smile as she added, "I think that's what you should take as most representative of his feelings now. As you said, you and he have a history, and if angry memories come easily to him when you're talking about things that upset him.."

He nodded. "They do."

"..then he may well have had a clearer head and been able to put his feelings across more easily talking with me than he could when you told him about rejoining the Normandy. So while you got shock..anger..maybe some remembered _precedent_.."

"You may have seen the truth of things" he concluded, unsure if he agreed entirely but unable to raise an objection that didn't, in his mind, smack of guilt-ridden pessimism.

Hearing him, Shepard smiled. "Exactly."

Thane too managed another, this one wider by a fraction than that he gave a moment back. "I do hope you're right."

"Course I am" she enthused with confidence and playful mirth, banishing the 'I hope so too' that was lingering in the back of her mind before it could make an escape attempt, and then asking in much more gentle tones when she'd eased her fingers through his, "..You ok so far? This..I didn't expect things to be so.."

"Complex?" he offered, his smile remaining as his gaze lit upon their joined hands. He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, which she returned.

"Not that" she huffed, faint amusement tugging at the edges of her lips. "You're a complex man, Thane. S'one of the things I love about you. No it's..I didn't expect Kolyat to come to me." A hint of apology wisped into her expression. "I didn't expect to be asking you these things for him."

"I know" he replied, understanding in both his tone and his eyes when again they met hers. He gave her fingers another gentle squeeze, then gathered her hands in his and held them as he so often had when they spoke in the Life Support plant. "Honouring the trust he placed in you is no bad thing, Siha" he assured her, noting quickly when she began to frown, "and it _was_ a conferral of trust. No matter what else may have prompted him to seek you out, if he did not trust that you would, if possible, lend him an ear, he would not have confided in you."

Touched by the thought in a way she hadn't been before, Shepard managed little more than a quiet, "..well I.." at first, her gaze flicking down to their hands as she tried to collect a more coherent response. Finding that one was not forthcoming, she defaulted back to what she was good at – making sure her mate was fine – and gave a little nod and a puff of sheepish laughter as she asked..

"..You ok?"

..a second time.

He nodded, reading her acceptance of the trust she hadn't realised she'd earned in her modesty. "Yes" he said. "Are you?"

"Better now" she replied, gathering herself as she slipped back into intel-gathering mode. She wanted, now that she understood the situation a bit more fully, to keep a quiet, private lookout as she sought answers for Kolyat for anything in her mate's words that was to her a hint of selfishness, and so put to him with doing that in mind, "If I could just ask though.."

"Of course" he replied.

"Why do you want to leave the Citadel? Why don't you want to stay where it's safe?"

If there was self-interest to be found, she reasoned..for the simple fact that he wanted to leave the Citadel despite Kolyat's not wanting him to was not selfish in her opinion..it would be in the whys and wherefores behind his decision. And if there was none, she'd have another Ace to play if an opportunity to offer comfort or perspective arose.

Taking her second question first, Thane rejoined, "The Normandy is safe. There I have easy access to medical care, a room in which to stay, the company of close friends.." He gave her a knowing look, though left out an overt mention of their relationship. Since he was giving her an answer that was aimed at Kolyat, she could empathise with the omission. "..and the security of being on the most advanced stealth warship in the galaxy."

"Being on a warship" she nudged, using Kolyat's words now to argue against him even though she had used the same reasoning Thane was against the younger Drell when she'd spoken with him, "is no safer than being on the front lines."

"A _stealth_ warship" he emphasised, a quiet tonal smile escaping him at her initiative. "It is not the Normandy's role to dive into the fray guns blazing. It is a reconnaissance vessel. A watchful guardian." Again, he caught her eye pointedly, his backhanded ascription of the qualities of a Siha to the ship – and by extension its captain – unmissed if her grin was anything to go by. "I shall be nowhere near the front lines."

"Is it only that though?" she prompted, "Is it just that there's a room and safety and people you like? You love Kolyat, obviously, and I'm sure you could sort something out room-wise if you really dug about. The Hanar wouldn't let a national..not one who has served their people as well as you have at least..go without a place to rest his head. I bet they'd even manage to sort out trips to Huerta for you if you told them of the need."

She was fishing, she knew, her expectations of the Hanar - especially now that there was a bloody war on - purposefully unrealistic, but she had to try and give him the hardest time possible to see if he could talk his way clear; if he could justify himself to her so that, if he ended up going to talk to Kolyat about all this, he would have had the chance to do so in a friendly setting first.

At her question's latest iteration, Thane paused. Not because he hadn't an answer for it, but because it, like so much that'd passed between them this morning, had a weight to it that deserved a moment's reflection to see it rightly conveyed.

"I love my son infinitely" he began, the words steeped in affection he wasn't sure Kolyat would accept from him if he tried to show it to him openly. "Were he in danger, or Goddess forbid sick, I would not leave his side for anything."

"Course not" Shepard murmured understandingly, her voice made soft so that it didn't disturb her mate's train of thought.

"As it is though" he went on, "he does not need me with him to see to those things now for he is in neither; be it danger or ill health. And so..I am willing to leave. Indeed I want to, and, to return to your question, it is not just those things that underpin that want, no. My reasoning is..personal."

"Not me?" she pressed, loathe to ask but needing in the same breath to be sure that she, important to him or not, was not the lynchpin upon which his decision was resting. If she was..well..outside of finding an example of distinct selfishness in his reasoning, she wasn't quite sure how she'd feel about that.

Uncomfortable was the first word that came to mind.

Guilty as all goddamn fucking hell was next.

Then came responsible.

Responsible for taking a father away from the son who wanted him to stay so they could repair a long-damaged but still wanted relationship.

Fretting, she took another quick mouthful of eggs to stop herself from fidgeting uneasily as she awaited Thane's response. At first..

"Yes and no"

..it really didn't help the sinking feeling she was getting. Then though, he elaborated, and she began to understand.

"No, you are not my only reason, and not the one I would share with Kolyat if he asked me the question you have. But also yes. I cannot but love you, Siha, and would follow you to the ends of the galaxy if that was where you led."

Her heart doing another of its curious breath-catch-causing-clench-things, Shepard gave a little nod. She was following now, understood where he was coming from, and could honestly say she felt the same. She did in fact. Say those same words as she abandoned her cutlery and the diversion activity it provided and slipped her hands again into his with an affectionate, "Ok, I'm with you."

Glancing at their hands, Thane replied, "And I with you" before going on with his explanation. "Truly" he said, "besides my wish to positively influence in any way I can the outcome of the war, and my natural inclination to be close to you, there is but one reason I wish to leave this place." He paused, then spoke..

"I would leave because when last I returned I thought I was going to die here"

..and for the second time that morning managed to almost knock his mate sideways without trying. Her breath caught in her throat, fingers clenching about his at his words. He squeezed them comfortingly, speaking on.

"It was an unpleasant truth, certainly, but one I had to face at the time. Now though, it is my truth no longer, and I would like very much to be as free of its memory as possible. That is why I want to leave."

Returning the squeeze upon his fingers, Shepard puffed out a slow breath, averting her eyes as she pushed away the prickle of unease hearing her mate speak of such things brought on. She remained thus, shoulders hunched, eyes on the tabletop, hands in Thane's, until she was sure that she had a lid on the awful memories his explanation had brought up and room in her mind for nothing more than the reasons he could speak what he had done.

He was well.

Well and coming with her.

Only then did she straighten, offering him a smile, small but honest, as she met his gaze.

"And leave you shall" she said, confiding with a breathy laugh in the hope of soothing his concerns regarding the self-centredness of wanting to, "I don't know where you get this selfishness idea from. There's nothing selfish there. I'd want the same. I'd want to be in a safe place with friends around me and easy access to my doctor. I'd want to be near the person I love, if at all possible. And I'd want to be categorically away from the place I thought I'd die in."

Thane though, while touched, did not find the comfort she'd hoped he would in her assessment. He believed it to be the truth as she saw it, certainly, but found that it was lacking in one crucial area. Needing it addressed properly, having only given it a scant glance earlier in their conversation, he pressed, "Even at the expense of a relationship?"

Shepard frowned. "Sorry?"

"Would you want those things still" he asked, "if you knew that pursuing them would negatively impact one of your relationships? As I have told you..even though I fear that leaving will wound my relationship with my son and jeopardise my place in his life..I wish to still." He was quiet for the length of two breaths, then confessed solemnly, his eyes on hers, "I don't know what to tell him, love. I don't know what to say."

Struck by the frankness of the statement, it was all she could do to gaze upon him a moment, collecting her thoughts as best she could. She had no quick fixes or easy mends for him, but she did, looking back through her memories of the infrequent instances where her beau spoke to her of his relationship with Kolyat, have a lick of inspiration. A pearl of wisdom that he himself had once spoken. It'd struck her at the time, and she'd kept it so close to her heart during the period in which his health went south that she could recite it word for word.

"All things worth keeping" she said, altering the phrase slightly for her purposes, "are difficult. You told me that."

He gave a slight nod. "I did."

"And I'm sure Kolyat knows it too. He's been by you for months now, hasn't he. Working on your relationship."

A frown now. "Work that I may undo.."

She shook her head, tugging his hands gently. "It'll only undo if you let it, Thane. He's confused by your decision to leave the Citadel, but he doesn't hate you for it. Explain how you feel to him. Tell him what you told me. That you can help the war effort and want space, literal space, between you and the Citadel and Huerta. Between you and here. Not between you and him. Let him know you'll be back to see him regularly, because you damn well will be if I can help it. Keep in contact. Heck, if you want you're welcome to use the AICS to do it through. If it's secure enough for us to talk through, it's secure enough for Kolyat. There's so much you can do to keep him close despite the distance. You'll just need to get him in on it."

And that he did.

Slipping his hands from his mate's, Thane opened his Omni-tool's messaging pane and composed a note..

/Son.

Commander Shepard has informed me of your concerns regarding my decision to leave the Citadel. I would like to discuss them with you in person, at your convenience. This evening perhaps? Or tomorrow?

Be safe.

Thane/

..that he sent off promptly lest the swell of positivity her advice had given desert him. Words were then spoken as he met her eyes..

"It is done"

..that earned him a beaming smile and a much needed kiss. He returned it gladly, the discomfort that had accrued through their talk beginning to ease, and was about to suggest a more savoury topic of conversation to set the remainder of their breakfast to when his mate proffered her own.

"You know.." she said, "we've spent all this time talking about Kolyat..and its all been uncomfortable memories and seriousness. Which is fine. God knows you need that sometimes. But..I know there's more to your relationship than that. I know you're proud of him. I can see it in your face when you speak about him." Smiling then as Thane did at her observation, she put again to him what she last had regarding a much less comfortable topic.

"Tell me why."

To her absolute delight, she barely got another word in for a full thirty minutes.

* * *

><p>And now!<p>

_**Coming in the next chapter**_

A friendship is patched up

And a message received sends Scalia sneaking


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: And here is chapter 16! I hope the shorter format for this and the chapters preceding it is pleasing to you all. Do tell me either way. Just a little note on pronunciation for later in the chapter; the Turian's surname is pronounced, 'Ss-vah-tha'. You'll know who I mean when she's mentioned :-)

Enjoy.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>Reconnection<span>

_**Kolyat receives his father's message and Scalia sneaks..but not really**_

Sprawled out and working beneath one of the gargantuan server-bays in the basement level of Zakera Ward's C-Sec precinct, Scalia, dressed up warmly in an extra vest, gloves and the thickest overcoat she had in her wardrobe to ward off the room's biting chill, was remembering. Voices and a deep Drellish hiss of warning came back to her with perfect clarity; the admin wing's main office flickering into her field of vision along with a retreating back that was ever so familiar.

_- 'Kolyat!' I plead, following him as I have since he got back to work after his meeting with Commander Shepard. 'You're freaking me out here. What did she want? Is it the war? Is she taking you?! Tell me!'_

_'No!' he snaps, the word coming to me and the people milling around us in the office in its Drellish incarnation, 'Ts'au!', because he killed his translator the moment I started asking him questions._

_My reply, a snapped, 'Yes!', is likewise heard as 'Veh!'; my translator as inactive as his._

_'Ts'au!' he repeats._

_'Veh!' I repeat._

_'Ts'au!'_

_'Veh!'_

_'Ts'au!'_

_'Veh!'_

_Back and forth. _

_Back and forth._

_Back and forth until our patience for each other breaks; the 'Rehin'ksah!' he barks at my back as I storm away from him gladly unintelligible to those around us. The raised brows and odd looks he gets for the outburst now are nothing to what he'd have earned for its Basic translation, and nothing again to what I'd have earned for my response._

_'Ksah vetti!'_

_No one favours variations of the phrase, 'Fuck off you dumb cunt' being hollered in a crowded space after all. -_

As the memory faded, lingering traces of adrenaline wisping through her system with its passing, Scalia drew in a short breath and drummed her heels on the floor irritably, glaring up into the partially eviscerated carcass of the server she was working on. She and Kolyat hadn't spoken since that argument, and had only seen each other for a brief moment at the beginning of their shifts today because, joy of joys, the mardy sod was working in the same room she was. She could see him now in fact, as she peeked out from her current working place, and as she watched him..taking in how his long body was settled by the terminal he was doing Goddess knew what with, and making note of his tense shoulders and the occasional deep and echoy glottal thuds that clattered from his chest through the low hums and whirs that were the room's background noise..she had to swallow a sigh.

If he was trying to telegraph _I'm righteously fucked off, stay back_ he was doing a damn good job.

_And for whose benefit is he doing that?_ she griped, glancing about.

_Mine, obviously, since there's no one __**else**__ here._

..

..

_This is getting ridiculous. _

Grumbling quietly to herself, Scalia scooted back beneath her nemesis - so named for she was convinced, going on how often the sodding thing broke down, that it had some kind of vendetta against her - and got back to work. Its innards weren't about to evacuate themselves, and she refused to spend any more of her time thinking on the resident Drellish grump. She'd spent most of yesterday evening and the sum of the morning thus far trying to find an excuse to get close enough to him to try and patch things up, and so far hadn't had even the faintest bit of lu-

A strident **BLIP** echoed off the walls, cutting off her mental grousing.

This wasn't an ordinary blip though; not one made by any of the multifarious machines, servers or terminals that filled the place. This was the blip of a message coming in on an Omni-tool.._Kolyat's_ Omni-tool to be precise since hers was quiet and they were otherwise alone..and it earned from Scalia what a struggling fish does from a hunting shark.

Instant.

Dogged.

Attention.

It took every ounce of self-control she had not to loose an excited octave's-worth of trilled glee.

This was it!

A chance to try and smooth things over between she and her vocally _mortal_ sometimes-friend in a way that didn't begin with her being horrified about the possibility of him going to war and end with him waving her off with a snarled, 'Fuck off Scalia!'

Granted, knowing him, any attempt at interaction would likely get the same response..but she couldn't not try. Leaving things as they were just wasn't an option, and it was with this and disarming the volatile air that'd come between them in mind that she settled on the best way to begin her attempt at making things right again. She'd do what she had every other time she'd taken the initiative and tried to get past a disagreement with him; sneak into his space a bit, just a playful, careful bit, and see if he'd play along. If he'd follow the script they'd seemed to have developed for such moments.

If he did..if he 'caught' her..then she'd try asking something benign about his message.

If not, all she could do was back off as quickly as possible and leave the olive-branchery to him.

Wriggling free from her spot beneath the server, Scalia rolled to her feet, took a moment to quiet her chest and then beelined in her sneakiest, quietest manner for the source of the noise. She didn't want to get the jump on Kolyat.

Not _really_.

The silence was her tell.

No Drell is an entirely soundless being outside of instances of necessity, great shock or sickness, and she knew from experience that the sudden disappearance of her usual background rumblings would be as obvious to Kolyat in the room's relative quiet as his _message received_ blip had been to her.

_Here I come Kol_, it said to him_, I'm making with the contrites back here_. _The rest is up to you._

Slinking forth on near-silent feet, her gaze as fixed on his back and the slight movements his shoulders made as he fiddled with his Omni-tool as his seemed to be on its screen, she made her breaths soft to keep the anticipation she felt from showing in her voice as she neared him.

It wasn't always this way between them.

Wasn't always her approaching him all sneakily in the hope of being caught and thereby accepted back into his good..well, ok _neutral_ graces after a fight.

He too, despite his grumbling, had ways of seeking her out after a falling out when he felt they'd been at loggerheads too long; most of which involved copious amounts of Tupari and an attempt, flailing and oblique most often, at an apology. This time though..seeing as how she'd in-your-faced him the moment he'd got back and hadn't let things rest until he'd cursed at her and disappeared..it was on her to make the first move.

To bridge the uncomfortable gulf that had come between them because of her panicked questions and his absolute refusal to answer them.

..

Watching him closely, she took a cautious step closer..

..

Then another..careful..careful..

..

And another..softly now..

..

And then a fourth..

..

And then she was within five feet of him, flittering there all silent and curious, and while he didn't look around at her, the glottal vocalisations he'd been making at intervals all morning because of his foul mood petered out at her proximity.

He was listening for her.

Acknowledging her without acknowledging her.

Counting this as a victory for olive-branch-extenders everywhere, Scalia gathered herself and tried for the moment; the reveal; the 'being caught' by him that always came if he shared her want to smooth things over. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she stepped up within a foot and a half of his right shoulder, peeping around and noting the fact that his Omni-tool was now inactive before..

"OHFF!"

..Yes..

There it was.

His elbow poked against her sternum with just enough force that she felt it. No more. It wasn't a violent thing. Wasn't angry or spiteful.

It was just him.

Just how they worked.

She cuffed him on the shoulder for it with a lightly closed fist, laughing, "Oi! Watch it!", with more relief than she'd comfortably admit to feeling. He grumbled at the contact, but the sound, much like the nudge he'd given her, conveyed neither anger nor disdain. It was an accepted part of their smoothing things over back-and-forth in much the same way that her sneaking in order to be caught and the nudge that he caught her with were. The next part too, her huffed..

"I can never get you, can I"

..was also on-script, as was his response; the retrieval, seemingly out of nowhere but really out of his lunch pack, of a can of Tupari and its placement upon the desk for her to take. And take it she did, stepping up at his side and opening it for a sip before offering him one. He took it, sipped, set it on the table as he batted away her..

"So..was that message spam?"

..with a bored-sounding, "Yep", and from there, had their disagreement been about anything but what it had been, she would have tottled off and left him to it.

All done.

Wounds patched.

Back to normal people, nothing to see here.

This time though she paused, concern replacing the levity that'd crept up on her. Her voice was soft and questioning when she spoke..

"Kolyat?"

..and he tensed visibly for it, clipping, "What?" with a glance at her.

"It's just.."

"_What_?" he repeated, glaring at her now with confusion and impatience.

She had to take two short breaths before she answered, swallowing back as much as she could the low trill that so wanted to rise up in her chest along with the question she was about to pose. It was hard enough to get out..anxious as she was about the answer..without tonal worry coming up with it. "You going to war?"

Kolyat spluttered, his eyes going wide at how close to the mark she was. It wasn't him that was going of course, but still..she was too close. "No!" he snapped, hoping to get her off the topic quickly. Luckily for him and his frayed nerves, he got no further than another firm rebuttal, "Gods no" before she cut in..

"_Good_"

..a Drellish smile, tonal and familiar to him, echoing up around the word. It was soft, that tone, and edged with a slightly breathy rasp that made him think her throat was dry despite her Tupari habit. Handing the can to her, he glanced back towards the bank of servers he knew she'd been engaged with all morning and raised his brows in question.

Knowing that look, she took the hint, saying, "I'll just..get back to things then", before giving his shoulder a gentle tap with her knuckles and turning, heading back from whence she came secure in the knowledge that he wasn't going anywhere warlike.

Kolyat watched her depart in silence, glad that his seeming acceptance of her attempt at friendliness..and it _was_ only a seeming acceptance, only surface and base, for she had riled him _powerfully_..had pacified her enough to send her packing with a minimum of fuss. Then, once he was sure that she'd stay gone, he turned back to his Omni-tool and opened first his newest message - that was, despite what he'd told his nosy compatriot, decidedly _not_ spam - and then the [Reply] screen. He'd managed to read the thing, short as it was, before Scalia had come over to him, and had had the forethought to close it when he knew, thanks to her silence and how obviously she lingered at his back, she was within sight of it.

_Small mercies_ he mused, setting his mind to pulling together as bland a reply to his father's surprise invitation as possible. At the bare minimum..which was all he planned to do..he'd need a time and a meeting place. The first was straightforward. He knew he had a block of free time tomorrow afternoon, and so picked a time at which he knew he'd have already had his lunch and thereby wouldn't have to have it with his father.

/14:00/

Selecting the place they'd meet though..that gave him problems.

It would need to be somewhere that would both allow them to talk, and provide enough distractions so that if things started getting heated - which wasn't a slim possibility, really speaking - they'd have ways of diluting the moment and keeping civil through the exchange. Much as Kolyat didn't like the man, he was still his father, and he knew him well enough to know that blowing up at him wouldn't do any good.

From what he'd seen, he was borderline unflappable. Immovable.

It was fucking _maddening_..

..

And he was getting off track.

Unwilling as he was to risk any of his colleagues bumping into them, they couldn't meet in a place he frequented. That ruled out Zakera Ward off the bat as he'd walked its streets since he'd been assigned to patrol them by the then Captain Bailey, and was a semi-familiar face at many of its various eateries and watering-holes. He hadn't really become familiar with the other Wards yet, modest as his excursions had been since he'd landed his job and begun slowly sorting his life into order, and that left..where exactly?

Frowning thoughtfully, he minimised the window and opened an extranet search engine with a couple of practised taps. He didn't enter anything for a long moment, pausing instead to wrack his memory for any mention his acquaintances may have made of agreeable places that might suit his purposes, but soon took to the keys - a café in the Presidium Commons that his boss-come-partner Ollie had once raved about springing to mind. Apollo's the name was, and since the man had taken his bondmate there he guessed it must be at least passable.

Only the best would do for the great Sahlyihree Tsvalla after all.

Rolling his eyes at how Ollie doted on the woman (even when she was half a galaxy away envoying for the Turian Hierarchy), Kolyat entered the name quickly and clicked [Enter], committing the directions that popped up to memory before reopening his message and copying them in. Once he was done, he added as succinct a closing phrase as possible and read the whole thing through three times..

/14:00.

Apollo's Café, in the Presidium Commons.

Take the elevator up from the dock.

K/

..to check that the adrenaline humming through his system hadn't come across in his words. Only once he was happy that it hadn't did he draw in a deep breath and click [Send].

And with that..it was done.

Now all he could do was wait.

..

..

Well..wait and begin to work himself up for the moment when he'd give his father the ultimatum he'd had coming since he decided to return to the Normandy. It was a simple thing, really. A simple..indelible..final thing that, for reasons he would **NOT** examine with anything like closeness, made his stomach knot and his throat pinch. If, he would tell him, he excised himself from his life completely when he left, like he had when he'd run off to Goddess knows where to hunt the people who'd killed his mother, he wouldn't find anyone waiting for him ever he tried to let himself back in.

* * *

><p>And now!<p>

_**Coming in the next chapter**_

Thane and Kolyat meet and discuss matters

And Kolyat catches a whispering glimpse of the man his father was.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Welcome to chapter 17 everyone. Sorry it's a smidgen late. I've got three jobs at present, all academic, and they're doing murders to my free time. On the plus side, I hit a fic-first! Thinking up a scene from a much later chapter the other day - the details of which I can't share but that concerns Kolyat and Scalia - I actually made myself tear up. Not just a little bit either. Got myself right in the feels. I blame the soundtrack to The Last of Us completely. Well played Santaolalla.

Well played.

Seriously.

UNF.

I'd also like to give another shout out to the epic and wonderful coldwetn0se, who, with numerous others, is working on a fix for Thane's romance in ME3. Check it out if you haven't already. It's all kinds of awesome.

Enjoy.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>A Matter of Communication<span>

_**In which Kolyat misconstrues a social cue, then learns something important about his father**_

Apollo's Café was always busy of an early afternoon. Be it passing tourists, dignitaries looking for some light fare on their break, or the scattering of regulars who propped up the counter and kept Matriarch Aethyta in turns amused and exasperated, empty was never something the place seemed to be and today was no exception. A gaggle of Human women, newly arrived, settled at a large table for a late lunch. Three Turians, one female, two male, approached the bar to order. And within the establishment's wide forecourt, their table the farthest from the numerous and varied clusters of seated patrons and situated so that one of those sitting at it had nothing but a high wall at his back, sat a pair of Drell; Thane and Kolyat Krios.

They were silent presently and had been for minutes..a half-hour's worth of stilted dialogue that had not, much as they'd traded points and counterpoints, been actual conversation having taken them from issue..

- '_Joining the war effort is a matter of duty, son' he says._

_'I know' I reply, the words flat; throwaway._ -

..to issue..

- _'When're you leaving exactly?' he asks, his chest silent; breaths coming sharp to keep it that way._

_'The day after next' I reply, noting how he dips his chin a degree to mask the faint flush of discontent that darkens his throat._

_'..Oh' he says, his eyes likewise lowering. _-

..to issue..

- _'Can I trust the Commander when she says you won't be on the front lines?' he asks._

_I smother the urge to chuff at the question. 'I trust her with my life' I say, earnest and, remembering our discussion regarding how we should introduce our relationship to Kolyat, necessarily professional as I convey my regard for her. 'You can trust her word.'_ -

..until they had covered everything they each could think to bring up about Thane's leaving the Citadel. In the technical sense of the word, their meeting was complete. Concluded. Finished. Over. And yet..neither man had it in him to leave. There was a sense between them of things left unsaid. Of words lingering on the tips of their respective tongues that they wanted to share but found, when they tried to, that they suddenly lacked the fast-moving breath to do so. Apprehension, years old, had its claws in them both; in Thane for he feared that he was on the cusp of losing his son, and in Kolyat because..beneath everything else..he feared losing his father.

Sitting across from him now, the young Drell felt vaguely ill. He was choked and tight-throated, and so filled with adrenaline that he had, for the past five minutes, been tapping his heel against the leg of his chair to quell the need to get up and pace. The mug of tea before him sat untended despite how dry his mouth was. The effort he was putting into keeping his chest silent was beginning to make him lightheaded, and to cap all that..to make keeping a veneer of something like detached calm almost impossible..the man had appeared stoic since he'd first sat down. And not just a little bit either. Not just po-faced. Po-faced was pretty much situation-normal for a Drell partaking in a serious discussion.

No. He was po-faced and tonally _fuck_-_ing_ _**silent**_.

Purposefully, autonomously silent and Kolyat _knew it_ because he'd heard his father, on numerous, disparate occasions, communicate tonally with him. Always very softly, very slightly, but it'd been there - that connection. Now though he was being denied it, and that not only left him unable to hear what Thane was feeling in this of all moments, it also implied that he was making a point, as Drell do with intentional tonal silence, of showing that he was unmoved by their discussion.

_Unmoved_, while Kolyat was on the brink of _crawling out of his_ _scales_.

Faced with that unruffled calm, the young Drell's temper prickled, and he knew he couldn't remain where he was any longer. He took a readying breath, gathering himself to put an end to the moment; to leave with a terse goodbye and head home where he knew, deep down, he'd spend the rest of the day and most of the night pacing back and forth, talking at the memory of his father's seemingly impassive regard.

Saying what he'd wanted to in person but couldn't.

He would have done this. Would have left right then had Thane not seemed to sense his decision and make one of his own. His eyes snapping up from the mug of tea in his hands, he caught Kolyat's gaze as the last of the memories he'd been glancing back at to help centre himself..

_- 'I'm with you' Ami says, her voice gentle. Soothing. 'Whatever comes. Whatever he says, or does, or brings up, or doesn't.' _

_'And Kolyat?' I ask. 'What of him?'_

_She pauses, stroking my temple as she considers her answer. 'I think he wants to know you.. ..maybe, in time, come to love you.. ..and I think you have to let him know that it's safe to do those things..'_ -

..faded away. Remembered calm and encouragement bolstering him, he spoke with a mind to following her advice all he could.

"Son.. ..I..feel that we have spoken and yet not at once."

Kolyat went still, the tension in him releasing just fractionally now that the proverbial Elcor in the room had been set between them squarely. Not having to ignore it anymore was a relief. It'd grown so _fucking_ big. Nictitating his inner eyelids, he nodded. "..I know."

"Then please" Thane prompted, relaxing as his son had..slightly, incrementally..at his affirmative. "Speak. I listen."

"Speak?" he parroted. "What do you want me to say?"

Thane's answer was quick. "Tell me your mind."

Kolyat's..wasn't.

At the almost amiable request, he closed his eyes and puffed out a sigh; catching a scathing 'You _really_ don't want me to do that' before it could follow his breath past his lips. Being given carte blanche to talk as he wished was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, he could get a bit of the mess in his head out and be shot of it. On the other..along with said mess came a tangle of emotions, and he'd never been very good with those. At least not where his father was concerned.

..

His seemingly implacable _vacuum_ of a father who was _still_ giving him the silent treatment.

A glottal thud of tonal aggravation clattered up from his chest and he swallowed hard, forcing himself to breathe through the few that followed it to quiet them. Three breaths were taken. Four. Five. And then..yes..then he had a handle on himself.

Then he could risk speaking.

Watching his fingertips trace a barely perceptible imperfection in the table's finish, he plucked out the most relevant of the cavalcade of grievances he had, arranged it into something like an intelligible form, and went for it. "..After Talid..I didn't want to know you. Didn't want anything to do with you. The messages you sent..They didn't sink in. Didn't connect. And then..suddenly..you were in the hospital, and I was at your bedside, and I wanted.." He chuffed softly, rubbed a hand across his mouth and then met his father's gaze. "I wanted not to feel anything, seeing you there. I wanted not to care. To do the whole 'Goodbye' thing and then leave and forget, as much as a Drell can forget anything, that you ever came back for me."

He paused a moment, clearing his throat and looking at the man sitting across from him in perfect, complete stillness. His back ramrod straight, he barely seemed to be breathing; the infinitesimal movement of his shoulders as he did the only nod to the fact that he wasn't, much as he seemed to want to be, merely a statue of a Drell at a café being talked at by a stranger.

..

Which is what it felt like to Kolyat at present, honestly.

Breathing through a minor resurgence of his tonal tell for aggravation, he pressed on. "But.. ..then I saw you. I stood by you. I listened to the doctors, to your Mordin, and I.." He shook his head, glancing away briefly before again meeting his father's eyes. In his own, his conflict was plain. In Thane's, to Kolyat, there was nothing but attentiveness. "..I felt.._horror_. I didn't understand it at the time..I still don't..I wanted to fucking _hate_ you. But for all I didn't _like_ you..And I still don't.."

Thane's nod was barely three degrees high, but that was enough to spur Kolyat on.

"For all I didn't _like_ you..I realised that losing you would be worse than having you alive. And slowly..in spite of everything..I decided that feeling like that was ok. And that I was ok with it being ok. As the months passed, it got easier. You were there, and we spoke, and..it got easier. And now you're leaving _and I know why_." He said those last words quickly, stopping the attempt at cutting in he could tell his father was about to make. Sitting back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, he finished his thought. "It's your duty. I get it. The war. The Reapers."

Despite the fact that he spoke flippantly, Thane caught his every disappointed edge and disapproving inflection with trained quickness, and he pointed out, after a quick think-time-gathering sip from his mug, what said edges and inflections made obvious to him. "You are hurt by my decision to get involved."

A reflexive, petulant "_No_" escaped Kolyat before he could catch it, and he almost cursed at the slight raise of the brows he earned from his father for the slip. Almost being the operative word there. He didn't, and forced himself into order before speaking on. Temper or no temper, he was unwilling to let himself come off as some bratty no-account; even less so a bratty no-account who was hurting. "I..think it's a stupid choice. Impulsive. Wrong.. .. ..But I'm not hurt by it. And it's not like it'd matter if I was."

That last assertion made his father frown. "What makes you say that?"

And his response, a flat, matter-of-fact, "You'll leave anyway", stopped him cold.

It was all Thane could do to stare a moment, the wind knocked from his sails by the awful prescience of his son's words. There was no rebuttal he could give without lying to him. No comfort that involved promises of unending physical presence. All he had to offer was the truth, and he did so in as soothing a manner as he was able.

"I do not wish to leave you."

Kolyat snorted disbelievingly. "Ok."

"I do not" Thane repeated, setting down his cup and leaning forward a hint. "For the war, I must depart this place, but I do not wish to leave _you_."

All he got for his effort were raised brows and a slight nod, and he spoke on in the hope of making his intention to always be present should Kolyat need him to be absolutely clear. "If you needed me-"

He got not a syllable further.

Kolyat's demeanour changed on a credit, his restraint evaporating at the attempted placation. Suddenly wide-eyed and flushed from the very bottom of the pleats on his throat to those that marked his ears, he gave a hiss of rage so sharp and low that it made the tea in their mugs ripple. The sound was maintained for a full breath, his lips open in a snarl as two and one-half words..

"**DON'T YOU FU**-"

..cut through the ambient chatter around them like a laser through smoke. There were more that followed them.. ..more that came as the people around him stared and then went back to talking in spite of how he stood, so tense he trembled, half way out of his chair.. ..but they, thanks to Thane's quick application of Omni-tool to translator, sounded like little more than rumbling and rolling sibilance to all those within hearing distance. He wouldn't allow the clearest memory the public had of his son to include the slurry he spat in that moment, and waited, taking everything he said squarely on the chin, until he sat stiffly across from him again before quietly reactivating the device.

Kolyat, breathing through slightly opened lips as he willed the colour in his throat and the racket in his chest to subside, barely blinked at the soft static burst that signalled its return. The fact that his vitriolic turn had burned itself out quickly, white hot as it had been, was the only reason he hadn't bolted on reflex, and as he began to settle in increments now he allowed himself to be glad that he'd managed not to. There was more he had to say. More he wanted to know. And he knew that scarpering now, much as a break from this Gods awful stress would be welcome, wouldn't help his situation as a whole.

That didn't mean though that he couldn't vent a little.

"Don't you tell me what I need and what I don't" he growled, appending his Drellish cursing fit to make himself doubly clear. "Don't you _**fucking**_ dare. You know _**shit**_ about what I need."

The man's response - a disapproving glance for the people milling nearby (particularly Matriarch Aethyta who, thanks to long experience, judged the outburst to be worthy of no more scathing a rebuke than a purposefully loud, 'Think Tealy over there has the quad to try and deck the green one in the leather?'), a tonally soundless though cultured, "Forgive me. I meant no offence" and a dip of the chin to convey reserve and contrition - did nothing to ease him. If anything it riled him anew for it brought to the fore, yet again, his infinite silence.

His grasp upon his temper weakening, the young Drell could ignore it no longer.

"Goddess, what is that!?" he snapped, gesturing vaguely towards his father. "What _is_ it? How can you be like that? Jus-..just _there_! There and not there at once!" He gestured again. "What the hell do you need to _be_ to just sit there while I'm bright from neck to frill?"

Thane tilted his head a fraction at the volley of questions, the muted gesture earning a renewed sneer from his son that he elected, along with all but the last of his questions, to pay no mind to for the time being. The last was that which had the greatest potential to cause a scene if not properly, carefully dealt with, and fractious expressions, while vexing to him, were something he was long used to. "What I am?" he repeated, adding after a pause and with pointed finality, "Son, you already know."

The baldness of the words made Kolyat newly tense. He coughed out a chuff, the staccato tone that still echoed up from his chest as he did marking his disdain. For the topic at hand, despite its relevance. For how easily his father seemed to bring it up. And most especially for the fact that it was, for them, a fact of life.

"Yeah, I do.." he grumbled, glancing out into the middle distance for a beat before returning his glare front and centre. "But what does that even _mean_? It doesn't tell me anything. Where's the rest of you?"

Thane frowned, confused. "Pardon?"

"I don't understand you" he clipped, a tinge of something akin to regret marring his once purely derisive, frustrated tone as his ire began to cool after so long on the boil.

Even he couldn't maintain a fit of temper at so high a pitch for long.

As surprise widened his father's eyes a fraction and drew from him a single nictitation of the inner eyelids, he explained himself further. "I know things _about_ you. Your favourite type of tea. How you like it made. That you once tricked Commander Shepard with a Rubik's Cube and enjoy looking at holos of the Citadel. I know that when you were just starting to recover, seeing me was the best part of your day."

"It was" Thane said, his voice gentle.

A mirthless huff jogged itself lose from Kolyat's chest. "I know that" he repeated, "because every time I came in I heard you smiling. It was like you hadn't seen me in years." His attention was fixed firmly upon the tabletop as he spoke, though he did glance up when his father replied..

"I hold those memories dear. You were, and are, a sight for weary eyes"

..and bit back the urge to bring up the fact that he was leaving said sight in favour of war and the endless blackness of space. Instead, he pressed on with his observation.

"I know all these things about you. I spent _months_ trying to learn you, and I used to think..as I picked things up, or as you told me them..that I was getting to know you. To understand you." He shifted in place, his expression pinching in a scowl and words becoming faintly accusatory. "But I wasn't really, was I."

Concerned, Thane drew breath to probe.

Kolyat though was faster. "It's like the difference between the face-name and the soul-name" he said. "I know your surface, your face-name, really well. But the rest?" Again he shook his head, forcing himself to meet his father's eyes. It was.._difficult_. The weight of his regard was such that he felt it on his very scales, and it remained thus for a long moment of what was, for Kolyat, acute, almost paralysing discomfort. This time however, oddly, it was Thane who looked away first; giving the forecourt a fleeting glance as he collected his response.

"This.._rest_..you seek" he finally mustered, "is bound up in things that I am deeply reticent to share with you"

Kolyat fenced. "_Why_? I know what you are. You said so yourself."

"Because I do not want anything of my professional life to be close to you. It has stained enough of both our lives without you seeking it out. And you're right. You do know, I did say, and what you seek, I think, is in those facts."

That garnered a deep, confused frown. "_What_?"

"What I was trained to be.." Thane explained, "..and the rest of me are not distinct."

Kolyat's frown grew all the deeper. "So..what does that mean? That you, as an extension of your profession, don't want to be close to m-"

"_No_" Thane cut in, giving a sharp, single shake of his head.

"..That I know what you are, so I know you as a person?" Kolyat guessed then, glad of the rebuttal in some deep place inside himself. "Or that there's nothing else to you?"

"There was.. ..very little else for a long time" Thane replied after a beat of pointed silence. The words were almost penitent, and he was readying himself to expand upon them when a memory he had not actively sought out..

- _'I don't know why he would accept the task' I say, watching Shepard's expression closely._

_'To be closer to you maybe?' she offers, her tone bordering on compassionate. I smother a wince, tension bringing my back newly straight._

_'That thought haunts me more than any other.'_ -

..drew him to a conclusion so pressing that he couldn't not give it voice. He did not do so blindly however. He saw an opportunity, in this moment, to both give his son what he seemed to want - a chance to better know him - and to steer him away from talk of his profession-proper, and he spoke, in measured tones, with a view to doing those things in a way that would not appear to his still volatile, still judgemental progeny to be forced or jarring.

With a little verbal sleight of hand.

"I do not presume to know your mind" he began. "But if you are looking for something redeeming in me..something perhaps to make my profession..my life..a more palatable thing for you to be associated with through me..you will be disappointed. There is nothing positive you might learn from my past. Outside of my most formative years, I was not raised so much as trained." He let out a slow breath, pausing on that point before finishing with something of a warning. "To you, my life should be a cautionary tale. Nothing more."

For seconds Kolyat sat unfocussed, replaying his father's words in memory. Most he simply sniffed at, sounding as they did to him more like a disinclination to allow him to know him better than anything else, but the comment about his early years..

That stuck.

That was new information.

He found that he couldn't let it go.

"What'd you mean, formative years?"

Thane straightened the barest hint, the movement his only outward acknowledgement of his relief that his attempt at steering their conversation gently had worked; that the detail he'd planted for Kolyat to find had been found and responded to as he hoped it would be.

"I have been training in pursuance of my role for much of my life" he reiterated, "but for my very youngest years. I knew almost nothing else before I met your mother."

Kolyat blinked, his confusion obvious. "But how can-..When did-.." he spluttered, then chuffed at how suddenly scattered his thoughts were and set his focus on the most pressing of his questions. "How long were you in training for exactly?"

"Before my first job, I was trained for six years" Thane said, cupping his mug in his palms and savouring its warmth as he conveyed his answer. Decided as he was about sharing such things, he was still cautious, and that showed in how carefully he spoke. "But..given that one's training does not actually stop at all..given that life itself is an exercise..a learning experience..I have been training for thirty-four."

"Thir-" The young Drell gapped, his eyes going wide. Whatever he'd thought to expect as an answer to his question.._that_..wasn't it. "..Father.." he finally managed, the word soft and laced with a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment, "you're barely forty.."

Thane nodded.

Kolyat forced out a huff. "..You've..You must be..You're not serious.." he breathed, trying as he did to read his father's expression..his body language..the damnable silence he sat across from him in. All he got for his trouble was the picture of reserved honesty. And that made not one _Gods damned bit_ of sense in his mind. Not when..

"..Six.." he rasped. "You were..six..when you.."

"Began" Thane said, supplying a harmless word to save him struggling. "I was, yes."

"And you trained for six years before..so.." He swallowed thickly. "..Twelve?"

Thane paused fractionally..took a breath..then answered with another slow nod.

And with that, Kolyat's stomach dropped so far so fast he almost gagged.

Sitting back in his chair sharply, he stared more through than at his father, fighting to process what he'd just learned; to swallow back the disgust he felt at the very thought of it and have it fit into what he already knew of the man in a way that didn't blow _every one_ of the preconceptions he had about him out of the water. He fought hard..but in the end..one by one..

_He chose his profession.._

_He must have liked it.._

_It was more important to him than his family.._

..they began to turn from what he'd assumed to be the truth into something akin to conjecture, and suddenly a part of his world that had been settled wasn't so settled any more.

Suddenly, the issue of blame became.._tricky_.

Not at its most basic, enduring level. It was his father's fault that his mother had been killed. If he hadn't been what he was, she never would have died, and nothing about him starting to be that at.._fucking __**SIX**_..was going to make that less true. Case closed. End of story. Forgiveness isn't coming, so don't even ask. You _**arsehole**_.

..

..

Otherwise though?

He wasn't at all sure anymore.

Could he really blame the man for simply _being_ now?

For each part of his character that he didn't understand and that therefore drove him round the twist?

He remembered what it was to be six. To be twelve. To have absolute faith that the adults around him were teaching him what was right and wrong and safe and unsafe. To follow on without thinking, and to carry the lessons he learned then into later life. He knew what that was like, and couldn't.._fathom_..that his father, at so young an age, had been taught so very differently than he.

..

But he had.

The proof was sitting right across from him, watching him with great intensity, and Kolyat couldn't but watch him back; this Drell who had been trained from boyhood to be a killer. To watch and see and know what he must have done, what he must be _capable_ of.. ..and to wonder on how fucking odd it felt to be sitting with him in a café like this, pretending he was normal.

As that thought came and went, a word fell out without him meaning it to. "Goddess.."

The way his father tensed you'd think he'd bellowed it, but he hadn't. His voice was soft, stunned, and as he watched the man take another slow sip of tea, it came again; some of his confusion put to voice in the form of a question.

"How?"

Thane's brows twitched up a hint. "How?"

"..Did they..did y-.." Kolyat fumbled, his mind moving faster than his mouth rightly could. Huffing sharply, he changed tack. "You were just a.."

"A child" Thane said blandly, the fact one that had no real emotional import to him. It was what it was, and long-past at that. "Yes."

His son was not similarly unmoved. "And they made you k-"

"_Kolyat_." There was a wealth of warning in the word.

Catching the glance his father gave the forecourt, he self-corrected. "..Work.. .. ..How?"

Thane was quiet for a beat, considering the question. Always had he been guarded when speaking of his training. The only people, bar Kolyat and his colleagues on Kahje, he had broached the topic with were his mate and his wife, and with them things had been and were entirely different than they were now.

Never had he or did he fear with them that he might be rejected if he misspoke.

That he might lose something he could not replace if he erred or said too much.

Even then though, even with those he trusted most, those with whom he shared his heart, he had not been entirely candid. For the betterment of all involved, he had kept back what he felt was inappropriate for sharing, and he would still. He knew that much. But he also knew that his son was seeking answers, and that the appropriate response to him doing so was not the imposition of a blanket ban on providing them. Doing that would only antagonise him, and he had no want to irk him any more than he already had.

Thus, tentatively, he came out in favour of partial disclosure.

So partial in fact that he prefaced said disclosure with a caveat.

"Speaking of such things.." he said, "..it is not done. But..of myself..and in answer to your earlier questions..there are small things I can tell you." He set down his mug and steepled his fingers before his chin. "May I?"

At Kolyat's fractional nod, he began with a correction.

"You used the word 'made' in your question. That is inaccurate. I was not compelled against my will; not _made_ to work in that sense. That I was selected was an honour for my family, and I was trained into my role with great care. Moulded gently, over a protracted period, into what I was needed to be."

Unsatisfied with so sparse an explanation, Kolyat pressed, "But h-", but halted at his father's sharply raised palm and the clipped, final..

"No"

..that came with it.

He bristled, his throat flushing indignantly. "No? You didn't even let me finish!"

"But how did they do that?" Thane offered, the glare he received in response affirming the correctness of his guess. "Son..I have had variations of this part of our conversation on a number of occasions. None were more important to me than this one is, but..I can push my reluctance to speak of such things only so far. _Now_." He took a breath and moved on with his explanation before the young Drell could argue further. "I told you earlier that there was little else of me but my role, my training, for a long time. That was not hyperbole. Everything of me is touched by it. Every part. It is in the way I think. The way I move. The way I speak. In my silence. I am an iteration of it, and its practice was an expression of myself."

Though frustrated at having his curiosity brushed off, Kolyat listened intently as his father spoke. "You keep saying 'was'.." he noted, "and you aren't always silent. I've heard you before."

"You have, yes" Thane said, taking his second point first. "I am.. ..a Drell backwards, I think."

At his son's fuddled, "What?" he elaborated, the very beginnings of a smile on his lips.

"The typical Drell is rarely silent, particularly when stressed. I am." He tilted his head slightly, impressing his point. "Particularly when stressed."

"I.." Kolyat tried, then spluttered and shook his head. He'd guessed that he stressed him. Much as he'd thought he'd never seen it, he'd guessed it was there. It was the nature of their relationship; each stressing the other because of their shared history as they tried, haltingly, to find some kind of workable medium between them. But as to silence being how he expressed that stress? As to it being a result of that and therefore not, as he'd assumed it was, his being unmoved by their talk?

He hadn't known that.

_Shit_ how he hadn't known that.

So much for another of his preconceptions.

"Ok" he managed, the realisation that he'd been taking their interaction in completely the wrong way knocking 'combative' right out of his social repertoire. "Go on."

With a nod, Thane did as he bade; turning to his first point now. "And as to speaking in the past tense about that early portion of my life.. ..After I met your mother..after we had you..there became more to me than what my role entailed. I discovered love..attachment..friendship. I woke to a life outside of my work, despite the fact that said life was still shaped by it."

"Hence the silence" Kolyat muttered.

"Hence the silence" he agreed. "And since I feel now as I did then..awake to the world..to life..the past tense only grows more appropriate."

Caught by a word's repetition, the young Drell asked then, "What do you mean awake?"

"Ah." Thane blinked, thinking quickly of the clearest way to put across his meaning. "It is a metaphor I favour for the effect your mother had on my life. To say she woke me from the disconnected slumber I was in prior to our acquaintance."

A more cautious question followed."..You were disconnected the whole time?"

His father nodded. "Always when I worked" he said, "yes. I was trained to be so. To see my body as a tool so that the work it was assigned could be done without troubling my soul."

Shifting in place as he listened, Kolyat again did his best to process what he was learning; to weigh it and fit it into what he already knew. The effort left him in more of a mess than he had been previously, and he used the frustration that came along with that mess to give his retort..

"Is that why it's always been so easy for you to leave?"

..a frankly _caustic_ edge. What tumbled out after it though wasn't nearly so deliberate.

"Because I..can't.. ..keep..dealing with that.."

And no matter how he tried to stop them..

"..Since you started getting better, I've been trying to talk myself out of getting invested in you. I kept telling myself that it wasn't worth it. That you'd either die or leave.."

..words just kept coming..in halting, bitter chunks..

"You didn't die.. ..but you're leaving. And I understand _why_. There's a war on. Shepard needs you on her team, and that's _ok_. It's fucking stupid. And it's ok.. .. ..but if you leave like you did wh-.."

..until he had to stop because he knew he couldn't say, 'when you left to hunt the men who killed my mother' without triggering memories that'd make keeping civil with his father impossible. So he stared instead. Stared until Thane nodded, then hid how his hands shook by balling them into fists and told him what he'd had coming since he'd decided to return to the Normandy.

"If you cut yourself out of my life, I won't let you back in."

And then it was said. It was said, and Kolyat waited with baited breath for his father's response. The lull felt like an hour, but it was in truth fleeting for Thane, hearing his son's resolve and his irritated dejection, quickly spoke to soothe..to reassure..and to introduce into their conversation the possibility of maintaining steady contact after he left the Citadel.

"That is not my intention at all" he said, the gentleness of his voice and the earnestness he spoke with catching Kolyat as much as his words did. Tonally flat as they still were, he couldn't miss the care in them. It made him ache in ways he felt his father didn't deserve, and he put on his best glare to compensate.

Thane though went on undeterred.

"It is my fondest wish, outside of having the war end, for you to be as much a part of my life as you want to be. And to that end.." He activated his Omni-tool, pulling up a file labelled 'AICS' on the main interface. Angling himself slightly in his chair then, he showed it to the still scowling Kolyat. "I have something here that will help us keep in touch despite the distance. Shall I explain how it works?"

It took the young Drell a moment..a long..long moment of suspicion and _massive_ indecision..but he drew himself up and leant forward for a better look.

* * *

><p>Over an hour after their talk, Kolyat stood upon a bridge that spanned one of the Presidium's massive lakes, staring out across the water. Behind his blank expression, his mind was racing. Memories jockeyed for place..<p>

- _'The Alliance Instant Communication Service allows soldiers to keep in contact with their families while out on active duty' he explains, the soft resonance of a smile colouring his words. 'The Commander has kindly allowed us to use her personal copy, should you wish to, in order to communicate while I am away. It allows for both text-based and real-time vidlink communication, and is quite secure. I have used it to speak with her myself.'_ -

- _'The Commander told me' he says, 'and I quote, "You tell him from me, he can use it any time he wants. Any time of the day or night. If he needs you, all he'll need to do is send an alert and you're there." She is empathic to your concerns, son, and very much wants for us to remain in contact.' -_

-_ I stare after him as he disappears into the crowd, numb and not, frustrated and not, confused and sure of nothing but the fact that I need to get away from this place. _-

..until he took in a sharp breath and jolted himself back into the present. Around him, blessedly, there was stillness now - the spot he'd found after departing Apollo's off the usual pedestrian routes of the Presidium's shopping precinct - and into it he breathed a depthful sigh. He needed to review. To let himself settle enough that he could order his thoughts, stop his recollections fr-

_- 'Will you use it?' he asks as the program is transferred and saved to my Omni-tool._

_'..Maybe..' I reply, my uncertainty caused by a whirling mind, not a lack of clarity. -_

-om leaping out at him from next to nowhere, and hopefully, through doing so, come to accept the way forward his father had set before them as workable.

..

His father, the child-assa-

-_ '__..Six..' I rasp. 'You were..six..when you..'_

_'Began' he says, sounding ungodly at ease. 'I was, yes.'_

_'And you trained for six years before..so..' I swallow back bile, my heart in my throat. '..Twelve?' _

_He nods._

_I can barely breathe. _-

-ssin.

He shuddered, barking out a short, utterly frustrated exclamation as he scrubbed a hand across his face. This wasn't going to work. Not here at least. Not here on the Presidium where all of the stressful memories of the day were just waiting to be triggered by some sight, smell or circumstance. He had to get away. Had to get somewhere familiar; somewhere where the memories were gentler, less fresh and would form, instead of strident blasts of recalled input, the usual background noise he was so used to as a Drell.

Turning on his heel, he double-timed it to the nearest rapid transit terminal.

It was Zakera Ward or bust.

* * *

><p>And now!<p>

_**Coming in the next instalment!**_

Thane shares with his Siha what he couldn't with Kolyat.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Oops, my fingers slipped.

!_Welcome to chapter 18 everyone_!

I know it's horribly late and I'm sorry for that. My work/life/writing balance has been completely out of whack of late, but I'm getting there. Anyway! Many and varied thank you's to all those who have read, faved, followed and/or reviewed News thus far. I really appreciate the feedback and do my best to work it into my writing.

Do enjoy.

Yours faithfully,

_L.G._

* * *

><p><span>In my absence<span>

_**A concern is discussed, arrangements are made, and a potential war asset is discovered**_

Shepard was in the elevator again, travelling up to her rooms after an afternoon of trying to stay occupied so she didn't fret herself into knots over Thane's meeting with Kolyat. She'd done a good job of it, all things considered. The second he'd left she'd pounced for her terminal in the hope of updates on the war, and had found a message from Alliance Command about Eden Prime. Cerberus, who were after a Prothean relic of some kind, had pulled off an incursion of massive proportions, and she'd managed a good half hour of chin-in-hand brooding over that fact..

_Who'll be on the ground-team with me?_

_What'll happen when we capture this thing?_

_Since the Crucible's still baffling us, could Prothean Find #2 be assigned to another race for study?_

_Let's say yes. Next question. __**Which**__?_

_How could we pick without being accused of favouritism and potentially alienating people we really need to get on with if this war is going to have anything like a positive outcome?_

..before stress-induced antsiness made it clear that if she didn't move she risked tearing either her fingers or the nearest notepad to shreds.

So move she did.

Big time.

The ensuing three hours were a blur of cleaning. By the time she was done the bed was made; the floor was clear; the couch had had its cushions removed, wiped down, replaced and re-replaced when the first attempt hadn't made the grade; the closet had been emptied of its contents, cleaned out and refilled; the only accessible walls of the still empty fish tank had been buffed to a military gleam, and she was convinced, given the job she'd done on the place, that it'd be more hygienic for her to eat her next meal off the floor of her bathroom than it would be to have it served up on a plate.

Tidy didn't cut it as an adjective.

Her rooms were Goddamn **IMMACULATE**.

And now she was returning to them, to where she guessed Thane was, after spending a further one and one half hours in the Mess tending weapons and talking tactics with Garrus. She _guessed_ because EDI, when she'd asked upon entering the lift if her beau had returned and if he had for his location, had stonewalled her with a blunt, sarcastic, 'I have a block that prevents me from answering that question.' Seconds of gaping disbelief had followed that offering, and she sent a glare towards the now empty dais by the door for its sometimes-occupant's new found respect for privacy.

She was getting more human-like by the day, that one.

Had she been here to see it, Tali would have had a fit.

Striding from the elevator the moment it deposited her outside her rooms, Shepard brushed off thoughts of her currently absent Quarian comrade and made for the door. Red as its panel was it opened to her when she neared it, and as the earthy scent of slowly heating sand hit her along with a wall of warm, dry air, she knew for certain what she'd assumed at EDI's snub. Thane was here, and there was barely time for a growled self-reminder.._don't you grill him about Kolyat from the off_..to sound in her mind before she was searching him out.

Past her workspace she went.

On towards the stairs, looking right and then..

..

_Yes_

He was settled on the couch wearing cotton casuals - his Omni-tool opened out for work on the coffee table beside a pot of sand and the sand heater - and she breathed a relieved, "_Hey_" when he looked around at her and smiled.

"Siha" he greeted, rising as she approached and embracing her to him. After so long a day - a day, incidentally, that was not over for him in terms of there being work to be done - the contact was for Thane as much welcome as it was needed, and the same went for his mate. She murmured happily as she buried herself against him and gave a gentle kiss to the side of his neck.

"God I missed you."

His smile warming at the words, he returned the kiss upon her temple. "And I you."

And then there was silence. To Shepard's ear at least. Her beau's chest sang with tonal affection, and she snuggled closer into him to better feel it; sighing contentedly as the resonance sank through her to the bone. She only spoke again, softly and clearly loathe to disrupt the moment, when she saw once more across his shoulder the glowing orange screen of his Omni-tool.

"Busy workin?"

Thane hummed a reluctant affirmative, inhaling against her hair before he replied. "For a little longer, yes. I've an errand to complete regarding Kolyat."

"Oh.." The need to probe and the temperance her self-reminder extolled warred within the Commander briefly. Temperance won.._just_..and she eased back a hint as she asked, "How'd it go?"

If he noticed it, her mate didn't comment on her beat of silent indecision. ".. ..It was..enlightening" he offered. "Difficult. But all things worth keeping.."

"Are" she finished at his purposeful pause, glad to see that he was willing to partake in their usual easy word-play. That, and the affection that suffused his expression at her attentiveness, told her more clearly than his words that the experience had not been dire.

"Yes. That said, we ended on a positive note. I gave Kolyat a copy of the AICS installation program, and he seemed to be more inclined to give using it a try than not. I had worried..but..for no reason it seems."

Shepard beamed. "Knew he'd see sense" she enthused, stepping back a pace then and gesturing towards his Omni-tool. "Shall I let you finish up? Don't want to keep him waiting for the message you're writing."

His reply shocked her. "It is not for Kolyat" he said, retaking his seat and indicating that she join him with a wave of the hand. Intrigued, she slid up on his left, leant to peruse the screen without thinking and, after what she was doing registered, looked sharply away with a regretful yip.

"Sorry! Not trying to read it."

"I doubt you could if you were" Thane soothed, watching with purposefully muted amusement as she moved around to the opposite side of the divan to escape the possibility of further accidental peeks. Only once she was settled did she allow herself a question, curious in spite of her caution.

"Is it Drellish?"

"No" he said. "Code."

"Code?" She almost laughed. "Who's this going to?"

"My contacts."

Then she did laugh. Just briefly though. Thane's regard remained serious, and her own soon matched it. "..When you say contacts.."

"People like those I once used to trace Kolyat" he clarified.

Unease took her now. "I thought things were ok."

"Indeed they are" Thane said with a slight nod, "but that does not mean that I can afford to be incautious."

Shepard boggled. "About _what_?"

"Precedent" he announced, the word spoken as though it explained everything.

To him it did.

To his mate..not so much.

"Precedent.." she repeated, grasping for meaning. ".. ..I remember you saying that yesterday during breakfast. About you and your..ahh.."

"Habit?" he supplied.

"Habit of leaving, yeah. What's that got to do with sending things to your contacts about Kolyat?"

Thane considered the question, framing his response carefully. He'd been hoping to have this chore done before she returned; to be able to speak about it, and about the meeting that'd given him cause to undertake it at all, with a more settled mind than he had now. Evidently though this was not to be, so he made the best he could of the situation, ordered his thoughts, and set about explaining himself.

"My son and I spoke of many things during our meeting. He made it clear to me that he felt he barely knew me on a personal level..barely saw beyond my face-name, my surface..and he was right. That distance, brought by time and the care I take to keep the less..savoury..aspects of myself away from him, blights us both. For all he knows little of me, I know little of him, bar what he elects to share."

Shepard glanced towards the sand heater as he spoke, dipping careful fingers into its base and stroking them through the grains she found within. For every third one she felt - hot but not scalding and very, very fine - she had a question for him, and so wanted to jump in with them. To pick and dissect and find things she could help with. Her copings prickled, demanding that she do so. That she take his stress on as her own. But she didn't. Mastering herself, she kept her own counsel and focused on listening.

"Distance though" Thane went on, tilting his head a fraction as she looked back at him, "is not the root of my preoccupation with precedent. _That_ was sown by a memory." His eyes flickered, growing distant as the recollection in question came to him.

"..'I don't know why he would accept the task' I say.

'To be closer to you maybe?' she offers.."

And then he blinked and was present again, his Siha sitting across to his right once more instead of standing beside him by the weapons rack in Life Support. She was watching him closely, nodding as she too recalled the memory he'd shared; prompting him on with the gesture.

"When it first came to me" he said, "I didn't think of precedent. Kolyat was keen to learn of my past..of my service specifically..and I was worried that he might be seeking, by doing so, to make that part of my life a more palatable thing to be associated with. To justify it somehow. That is not something I want him to do, so I discouraged him and steered our conversation elsewhere. I thought nothing more of it in that moment, but upon my return to the ship I considered things more closely. Thus, the idea of precedent struck me."

"Yours?" Shepard guessed, following as best she could.

"No" Thane replied. "His."

".. ..What's his?"

"Kelham."

The name, to Shepard, was like a punch in the gut. She sat back from the heater as if it burned her, all becoming clear in a rush. "You think he might get back _into_ that kind of thing?"

"I..did consider the possibility" Thane confided, grimly resolute. "He has surprised me in the past. I didn't think him capable of pursuing a contract, yet he did. In my absence, indeed because of it, he _did_. And now, with the circumstances that faced him in that moment close to repeating, I couldn't but wonder."

That last bit there?

'...close to repeating...'?

That was news to the Commander.

"Now wait a second" she said, disbelief turning the words briefly to a puff of mirthless laughter. "The last time he messed up, he hadn't seen you in a decade. Now he's had you in his life, on tap pretty much, for going on a year. If not more. He might not be as close to you as he wants to be, but going off the straight and narrow like he did before wouldn't get him any closer. Heck, if he _did_ want that now..to copy you say, so that you and he might have more common ground..he wouldn't go out looking for hits. He'd join the military! And besides all that." She waved a hand, concluding that line of argument and moving on to the next. "Besides all that, he has a _place_ here. A home. Friends. A job. Steady pay from that job." Each point was counted off on her fingers. "Why in the blue _hell_ would he go and throw all that away?"

"I asked myself that every day after I learned that he was seeking work on the Citadel" Thane replied sombrely. "He had all of what you mentioned on Kahje, and more. All of that and a large, loving family, and yet..his aunts, uncles, innumerable cousins.. ..They were not enough to stop him from choosing as he did."

Shepard was unconvinced. "And yet you're still willing to leave" she countered, sitting forward and pointing towards him. "I _know_ you. If you really thought he'd end up in that kind of trouble again, I couldn't _drag_ you off this station if I _tried_."

As it turned out, her beau agreed with her. "Quite so" he said. "Quite so. Kolyat is impulsive, certainly, but not foolish, and for all I may not know his mind, I have come to trust his judgement."

There was a pause.

A black brow rose.

And then, tellingly, Thane huffed; seen through like glass. "More or less" he amended, going on, when his Siha's lips quirked, with all severity. "I do not however trust the criminal element of the Citadel. With the scarcity of Drell in Council space, let alone on the station itself, he would have turned heads with his comings and goings. And if Kelham bragged about the Drellish boy he'd employed to kill Joram Talid.. ..The Drellish boy with the name Krios.."

Shepard sobered quickly. "That's all it'd take."

"He would become a known quantity, yes" Thane affirmed, gesturing then to his Omni-Tool's screen. "I've had a number of my contacts listening out for indications that this has occurred since the Talid episode. Watching the dealings of those like Elias Kelham so that, if necessary, they could be _discouraged_ from approaching Kolyat."

The weight he put on the word 'discouraged' made the Commander wince.

"As yet they have had nothing to report, but with my leaving putting him through another minor upheaval, I thought it wise to have them double down. Regardless of my doubt that he would once more seek to walk the path of sin, he is vulnerable now. Distracted. Easy prey for the unscrupulous." Indignation sent his cheeks and throat a rich though quickly dimming scarlet. "I will _not_ allow him to be taken advantage of."

"Damn right" Shepard agreed, allowing herself only the briefest pause on the colour before their discussion again took precedence. She wasn't sure if she agreed entirely with either Thane's assessment of Kolyat's potential for re-offence, or how he was going about protecting him from the Citadel's criminal underbelly, but he hadn't asked for her opinion and she wasn't about to foist it upon him; particularly since, really speaking, it was more or less half formed.

Did paternal paranoia and unfamiliarity lay beneath his thoughts on precedent?

Maybe they did, but she couldn't think of a reason why that being true would be a bad thing. Her mate loved his son, and if his way of showing it was to erect a perimeter of watchful eyes around those that could potentially do him harm, so be _fucking_ it. On said perimeter though, she had a question, and posed it as he quickly tapped another figure into his missive. "These people..these contacts. We're not talking child-spies are we? The poor?"

Thane looked scandalised by the suggestion. "Drala'fa? _No_."

"It's just that.." Wetting her lips, she glanced away from and then back to him. "Are you sure they're all still on-side? War changes things. Makes people frightened..Stupid.."

She couldn't, just _couldn't_ bring herself to mention that her concerns were fuelled by the fact that an information leak had been the cause of Irikah's death, but she didn't have to. Thane knew her mind. He saw it in the painful reticence in her eyes, and replied, after she mustered..

"I don't want you getting burned"

..in as reassuring a manner as possible. "Perhaps I spoke carelessly when I used the word 'contact' earlier. You saw Mouse in your mind's eye, yes?"

She nodded. "Or someone like him, yeah."

He returned the gesture, contrite. "Then I have misled you and apologise. The people I have guarding Kolyat's interests did not come into their positions as Mouse did his; an urchin, once used by an assassin, now carving out a career in petty crime. They are professionals - the eyes and ears..Le'i'tal in Drellish..of those who utilise them - and are Compact-vetted, all. I would not have set them on this task were they not."

"Compact-vetted?" Shepard repeated, nonplussed. "They're..spies working for the Hanar?"

Thane was quick to clarify. "They do not serve as I once did, no, and as to them being 'spies'.. ..Let me explain. To be Compact-vetted is to be trusted – and to be seen to be trusted - by those who either serve presently, or who have served and, through that service, gained notoriety enough to be seen as a worthy employer."

She gestured towards him. "Like you."

"Yes. And to be Le'i'tal, as the name suggests, is to be the means through which one's employer keeps watch over a particular thing; be it a sector of the market, a group of people, a single person or whatever else. Like a spy may, they watch and listen. They record and report back. But they are more akin to hidden, sentient recording devices than field agents."

The Commander gave an amused huff. "No silenced guns then?"

"No" Thane replied, smiling faintly.

"Disguises?"

"Unnecessary."

"Bombs? Poisons? Aliases?"

"In turn" he chuckled, "no, no, and they do operate under aliases of a kind, yes. Le'i'tal are Drell who have been placed by the Hanar in a position that, by its nature, allows them do their job while appearing to do another. Translators. Shop keepers. Personal assistants. Anything that lets them blend in easily, that compliments their memory or is second nature because it chiefly concerns their native tongue or culture, is fair game as a cover."

"Versatile" Shepard noted approvingly, asking then after a moment's reflection, "How can they 'be seen to be' vetted though? I can't imagine them advertising."

"They certainly don't publicly, no" Thane agreed. "Punters, for all the uninformed might look, do not find Le'i'tal. They make their need for one or more known, and Le'i'tal who are seeking employment find them. And when they do, when they initiate negotiations and wish to advertise their vetted status, they present the registration code they received from the Primacy when that status was officially confirmed. The employer is expected then to stipulate the number of days over-which they will compare this code - which changes and therefore must be re-sent daily - to the Primacy's registry in order to assure themselves of their potential employee's veracity. Three days is the minimum most Le'i'tal will accept. Anything less implies a lacking interest in security."

"And that's just not on at all" Shepard quipped lightly. Her lips twitched with the beginnings of a smirk; the words and the question following them jovial, less sarcastic. "How many'd you ask for as standard?"

"From those I've tasked with listening in on the deals and communications of Kelham and his ilk, three weeks" Thane replied, his mate's mirthful regard fading into curiosity as he went on. "Though I haven't a standard as such. I only used Le'i'tal twice in all the years I was active."

"Even though they're useful as all heck?"

"Yes. I scarcely had the time to properly vet them, and breaking an agreement with one who proves to be unsatisfactory after being vetted is costly in monetary terms. While they may use the Drala'fa as tools during their assignments, they are not, as Mouse was, paid in toys and kind smiles."

"I'll bet they're not" Shepard mustered, frowning faintly at the regret lacing the tail-end of his comment. It cut her to hear, much as it might've been appropriate given what it concerned, and she refused to linger on it. God knows Thane had long enough for the both of them. "Cagey folks, these eyes and ears types. Wanting employers to want proof like that."

"They are" he agreed, emulating her tactfulness and easing back on point. "And to your concern regarding potential betrayals, they're renowned as much for that caginess and their skill in working undetected as they are for their fidelity. In their trade, trust is everything. Without it, they would have no clients, without those, no business, and without that, they would not exist at all."

Shepard nodded along as he spoke, returning careful fingers to the heater's sand-filled bowl. In all honesty he'd had her at 'professionals'..that word being reserved for the cream of the crop where her beau was concerned..and she told him as much. "I can see why you're so trusting of your people." Then though, as she drew breath to excuse herself so he could get back to work, her potential war asset sense tingled. **Hard**. Struck, she couldn't not ask, "Do you think they'd be willing to help us against the Reapers?"

Narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, Thane joined her in appreciating the heater's presence by laying his fingers against its warm sides. "Circumstances being what they are" he said once he'd settled, "I see no reasons why you would be denied the aid you seek; except perhaps the simple inability to render it. The fealty to the Hanar that keeps Le'i'tal from accepting work from people without a link to Kahje won't keep them from you. Not now."

"So where do I start?" The question came quickly, and was followed, when a possible solution occurred to the Commander as she spoke it, by a suggestion and the brief touch of her sandy fingertips to Thane's clean ones. "You know them already. Could you put in a good word or two on my behalf?"

"No no" he said, as regretful at having to rebuff her as he was pragmatic about the need to. "I am not someone you want your cause associated with. Not even in so private a public arena as theirs."

"Why not?" Shepard pressed, consternation sending her fingers burrowing anew into the heater's grainy depths. "I'dve thought someone they see as a worthy employer.."

Thane shook his head, and with seven words, "Worthy or not, my reputation precedes me", turned her misapplied focus into complete understanding. And the more he spoke..

"That is not something we can risk. Not when you're trying to rally people from all cultures, all races and creeds to you"

..the more she knew he was right. Nothing _but nothing_ made the general populace twitchy like the presence (even if it was only implied) of an assassin, and twitchiness was the last thing she needed her burgeoning crusade to rally the troops to inspire.

"All right" she said, putting paid to her hopes of things being straightforward. "Direct contact's out. How about just pointing the way? Showing me where to post my flyer? _Help wanted to avert end of universe_. _Apply here_."

Despite the severity of the situation, Shepard managed to smirk faintly as she spoke and Thane mimicked her; a wry, humanly-inaudible chuckle escaping his lips. His jaw faintly quivered after it passed, and he caught her eyes lingering before they flicked up to his.

"Mirth" he explained, gesturing to the area that'd held her attention. "Excitement or mirth is expressed facially by Drell with a trembling jaw, and to your questions, yes, I can point you in the right direction. I can advise you on how to advertise your need for Le'i'tal, and if I recognise any of those who respond - and they _will_ respond – I can give you an insider's opinion on their suitability. I'll also walk you through the protocols and procedures working with them entails. Anything more though.."

"Is a no-go from the off" Shepard said, filing away her beau's cultural aside – _seems I was right about Scalia_ – and filling in again the purposeful pause he left after his words. "That's fine. They won't even get a glance at you Thane, I promise. Not even in the way I'll word my flyer." She returned her fingers to his then, giving them, when he laced them with hers, a loving squeeze. "Thank you. Really. They'll be a huge help if I can reach them."

"You will" Thane assured, certainty in his voice. "I'll make sure of it. In fact, once I've sent my own their latest orders we could put your request for aid together. Would that please you?"

It would. It really, _really_ would. But Shepard was torn. "Hasn't your day been long enough already?" she brooked, her expression wavering into concern.

Thane's wasn't nearly so severe. "It is no trouble" he replied, moving back behind screen and keyboard so he could finish off his current project and get on to the next. That his mate's worry eased first into thankfulness, and then into the picture of coy flirtation as she looked upon him did not slip his notice, and he did nothing to quell the tonal 'I love you' that rolled through him when she acquiesced.

"All right" she said, "but only if downtime's scheduled right after. I don't care what you say, the day _has_ run long."

And with that, she was up. Up and busying herself with remaking their bed (its neatness bedamned), pondering the content of her to-be flyer, and thinking up something relaxing to do once the workday ended properly and they could finally unwind.

_A vid?_

_Dinner?_

_A show?_

_Dinner __**and**__ a show?_

She wasn't sure, and was just about to ask EDI whether she knew if anything good was on at the nearest theatre when movement from the vicinity of Thane drew her eye. Having tapped the last character into his message and sent it off to those it was intended for, he set his Omni-tool aside and reached for the small pot of sand that was sitting beside the sand heater. From it he decanted three small, grainy handfuls into the heater's deep base, then used a closed fist to flatten the sand down to his liking and glanced over, when he felt her eyes upon him, to find his Siha watchful and curious.

That curiosity was not one-sided. "When you had your hand in here earlier" he mused, his own contemplations about downtime and what to do with it prompting all he now did and asked, "did you find the grains abrasive?"

Shepard blinked at the question, pausing her assault on a pillow to answer, "Not in the least."

"They were pleasant then?" he probed. "Gentle on your skin?"

She nodded, straightening their blanket out now and wondering on his sudden interest. "Very, yeah."

"Excellent." The word was almost a purr, as was the question that followed it. "Siha, what was it you asked me when I prepared the heater for the mugs yesterday morning?"

Shepard thought back quickly, excitement licking through her as she began to catch his drift. "Bath time?"

"After our work is done, I should think so" he smiled, chuckling deeply when, after asking..

"For both of us?"

..and receiving his..

"Of course"

..she beamed, moved to settle by his side with all haste and eased his Omni-tool back into its place before them.

* * *

><p>AN two, the sequel. Guys. Hey guys! Any idea who might make a good Le'i'tal? I have someone in mind. Someone we know.

And now!

_**Coming in the next installment!**_

The mission to Eden Prime is undertaken.

Thane feels out part of his new role among the crew.

And Shepard brings back aboard more than she expected to.


End file.
